Into the fire again
by purdys pal
Summary: AU Out of the fire. Michael and Larry never make it to Brennan's apartment. A car crash leaves an injured Michael under Larry's influence. Can Sam and Fiona get him back before he falls too far to be saved. NOW COMPLETE :
1. Chapter 1

I don't own burn notice or any of the characters.

What if after stabbing Brennan, Larry and Michael didn't make it into the apartment. Sam couldn't hold Larry there for the police to pick up and Michael wouldn't get away from his undead ex partner.

AU: Out of the fire.

And into the fire again,

.

"Damn it Larry are you trying to get us killed?"

Michael was bracing himself with one hand against the dashboard the other on the passenger door. They were speeding at close to a hundred miles an hour along a dual carriage way, weaving in and out of the traffic, heading for the address where Brennan had the NOC list hidden.

He really wished he had not let Larry get behind the wheel of his car, even though the Charger had started off as his Dad's he felt quite sentimental about the old black muscle car. Larry though had no such feelings and was driving recklessly even by Michael's own standards. The was after all the body of a murdered arms dealer in the trunk, and as far as Larry was concerned the should be no real rush to get to where they were going.

"No Kid. But I think you might of arranged for your little team of do-gooders to get to that safe before we do." Came the snide retort.

Ok, so Larry did have an idea about what was being planned. Michael kept the thought to himself.

However he was about to order Larry to slow down and risk another lecture on how he had become soft when he felt the car shudder and buck. Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, he could see Larry fighting with the steering wheel. Then came the bang, bang, bang of a tyre shredding, Michael grabbed hold of the handrail above the door as Larry continued to fight for control of an old car travelling at close to a hundred miles an hour with a blown tyre. The car hit the central barrier and bounced off hitting another car sending that off across the road and in to another vehicle causing a pile up behind them. Finally the steering went completely as the car dropped on it's suspension from the stress and then rolled over ending up sideways across the road but the right way up.

Larry sat still for a moment gathering his thoughts the seatbelt had held him in place and after a moment he came to the conclusion he had no serious injuries. His chest hurt from hitting the steering wheel but apart from that he appeared to be in one piece. Managing a strained smile he gave a quick thanks to Michael's crap choice in vehicles. Unbuckling the seat belt he tried the door but it was jammed shut, the panels bent. He knew he had to get out quickly, well meaning bystanders were already on their way over and he had no intention on explaining the body lying in the trunk of the car.

"Larry!" The voice, little more than a hiss.

Looking over, Larry noticed a thin trickle of blood coming from Michael's left ear and as he turned his head the blood coming from his nose also.

"Come on, we've got to get out of your side." Larry knocked Michael's hands away from the seatbelt he was struggling with, and unbuckled it himself. "Move yourself Michael." Leaning over he was grateful that the passenger door opened when he operated the handle.

Pushing Michael out on to the road, Larry followed him and made it half way to the side of the road, when he stopped at the sound of puking. Turning to look, he watched Michael, on his hands and knees vomiting onto the tarmac.

"Damn it." He pulls Michael up by the back of his shirt. "You're going to be the death of me." Avoiding the vomit on the ground he slips a shoulder under Michael's arm and half carries, half drags him to the side of the road. "Anybody else, I'd just put a bullet in them. You know that?"

He gets no reply to his grumbling, Michael's head rolls to one side, and his eyes close. Larry drops him down on the verge.

Spotting a car that seemed of gotten through the multiple pile up relatively unscathed, Larry walks towards the driver a big friendly smile on his face.

"Hey, my friend is pretty badly hurt." He calls out, "Have you gotta phone I could borrow." As the man behind the wheel reaches for his phone Larry calmly leans in to the vehicle and shoots him in the head. A quick look up, nobody has noticed, so the now dead driver gets thrown out onto the road and Michael is helped into the passenger seat. As they drive off the sirens of the emergency vehicles can be heard in the distance.

"Without our friend Brennan it's going to be a bit more tricky getting that list, we might have to take the safe with us." Glancing over Larry sees that Michael is resting his head on the side window, his body limp and his eyes barely open.

"Hey! Wake up Michael. You can nap later." He taps the injured man on the arm but gets no response. He narrows his own eyes slightly. But turns back to watching the road, one crash a day is plenty.

"Well we're here now." Larry tells his unconscious passenger as he pulls up next to the unfinished apartment block. He checks his hand gun while waiting to see if Michael is going to wake up. This is not how he saw things going, and he is becoming more irritated by the minute. Michael definitely needs to toughen up if a little concussion puts him out of the game nowadays.

His lips twist into a scowl, a black pick up is coming round from behind the building and he can't be completely sure but it looks like Fiona sat in the passenger seat. He hits the steering wheel and then turns his gun on Michael. But Michael is out cold. Cold fury grips him, he is sick of Michael's hand wringing, wet rag bunch of do gooding so called friends interfering in his business.

"Hey!" He gives Michael hard shake and gets a whimpering moan in response. "Stay awake Kid. We've work to do."

Michael half opens one eye and tries to give Larry a dirty look, just wanting to sleep. "Don't look at me like that. This is all for you, you know that. If you want to be safe we need that list."

Michael nods his agreement, anything if it will get Larry to shut up. All he wants to do is sleep and get rid of his damn headache.

"We need new wheels, once we've dumped this wreck I'll get you to a doctor." Larry reached over and using a thumb and finger opened one of Michael's eyes. "Jez kid you don't look to good" He started up the car and headed away looking for a quiet car park with minimal security.

Sam Axe is high up across the unfinished road in another apartment block, he has his sniper rifle set up for Brennans hide out, but he is using it at the moment to check on what Larry is up to. Michael and Larry should be on their way upstairs to the safe by now. Instead they are sat in a strange car and they are not moving. Sam tries to focus on what they are doing but from the angle he has he can't make out what is going on. He curses when they drive off, he has lost his chance of getting that pyscho Larry locked up and Michael away from him. He dials up Fiona to tell her their plan fell through, they now needed to collect Maddy and wait for Michael to let them know what he wants them to do next.

A/N: At the moment I don't have the story traffic info showing on my computer. So I don't know if my story is being looked at or not. I have never asked before but can you please review and tell me what you think so I know if to continue.


	2. Chapter 2

Into the fire again,

Chapter two,

.

Larry found what he was looking for in a multi storey car park. A lone woman loaded down with shopping bags trying to get the door open of her rather plain looking silver four door Toyota. Pulling into a parking space as close to her as he could get, Larry got out of the car and shut the door quietly. A quick look, she was definitely alone. Straightening his suit and combing his fingers through his hair, toothy smile in place he approached the woman.

"Hey, you look like you could do with a bit of a hand there." His tone light and friendly, just a helpful passerby.

She jumped slightly and turned to see who had spoken, taking in the sight of a harmless looking middle aged man in a business suit. His smiling face some how made her want to smile back.

"Thank you." She answered, relaxing.

He was at her side now, hands open offering to take the bags off her. With her hands free she turned round to open the car door.

"Thank you, I really didn't want to put them down on the wet floor. You kno-" She stopped talking, a look of surprise crossed her face.

She slowly crumpled forward against the side of her car and slipped to the floor. Larry stood above her, knife in hand carefully keeping a watch out for witnesses. Satisfied he took the woman's car keys and then rolled her body out of sight under the car in the neighbouring parking bay. Picking up her bags he threw them onto the back seat of her, or rather his car, along with her hand bag. Whistling he walked back and collected Michael who was still not being very helpful.

With a new non-descript car Larry gave some thought to his semi conscious passenger, Michael probably needed to see a doctor, but for the time being the kid would just have to tough it out. In a few hours this Vaughn character would be their trail. They needed to get their hands on that NOC list, and then make a list of their own. The was money to be made, places to go and people to kill.

.

The safe house wasn't so much a house as an empty motor shop that Sam had found quite some time ago and marked down as a possible emergency rendezvous spot. It had power that just needed to be hooked up, a small kitchen, work benches, enough room to spare for a couple of beds and still leave space for them to keep their cars out of sight.

By the time Sam had picked up Madeline, and Jesse had got the power switched on it was dark out side. While Sam helped Fiona try to break into the safe, Jesse was setting up a portable TV to give Madeline something to watch while the rest of them came up with a scheme to get Mike away from Larry.

Finally the TV sprung to life and Jesse sat back to let Madeline flick through the channels and find something she wanted to watch. He was surprised at how well she took all this, the running and hiding, having to drop everything at a moments notice. She had stopped her channel hopping and he lent forward to see what she was watching so intently.

"Guys. We have a problem." He called out, his expression grim.

"That's not the half of it." Madeline muttered, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands.

There on the small black and white screen was an aerial view of a traffic accident. The reporter announcing how earlier in the day a twelve car pile up was caused by a driver losing control of his speeding car. The picture changed to show a wrecked Dodge Charger. Apparently the driver and passenger of the vehicle fled the scene in another car, an orange Volvo. After shooting the Volvo's driver in the head.

"The car you saw at Brennan's?" Fiona commented, resting a comforting hand on Madeline's shoulder.

On searching the Charger, a body was found in the trunk, with a stab wound to the chest. Up flashed a headshot of Tyler Brennan. So the police were now looking to question the owner of the Charger, Miami resident Michael Westen. Who is believed to be armed and dangerous. Madeline lent forward switching the television off not wanting to see anymore.

"So as of now, Mike's best case senario, is life in prison?" Jesse commented earning a glare from both Fiona and Madeline.

Sam nodded. "He's been working with Larry for less than a day and the official bodycount is three that we know about. We need that drive Fi, how long is it going to take?"

"It's a top of the line model Sam it's going to take some time to get into." Fiona turned back towards the safe, her mind already thinking of ways she would make Larry pay for the trouble he was causing.

"Well get to it sister, we're going to need to find someone high up in the government to give the list to if we're going to stop Vaughn."

"What about Michael and Larry?" Madeline wanted to know.

"One thing we know about Larry is, he won't hurt Mike. So let's sort out the Vaughn problem first." Sam could see on the faces of Fiona and Madeline that if the Vaughn problem wasn't resolved quickly he was going to have a mutiny on his hands.

.

Michael woke up as daylight flooded the room. Slowly opening his eyes he looked around, the edges of his vision still blurry. He was lying under a soft white duvet, and for a moment he thought he was at Fiona's, before remembering Fiona no longer had a place of her own. The room was large and decorated in a pale green and white scheme, the sun streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows hurt his eyes causing him to squint.

More than a little confused he tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness making him stop with his back propped against the wall. Taking a few deep breaths he decided to work out how injured he was, shifting the duvet off his body he saw that he was still fully clothed, the was no blood and as far as he could work out no broken bones. So that was all good. Taking another deep breath he realized his chest felt a little tender. Opening his shirt he discovered he had a deep dark diagonal bruise running from his right shoulder to his left hip, which looked like it might of come from a car seatbelt. So a car accident, he ran a hand through his hair wincing at how sore his head felt, he must of hit his head.

He started rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tried to remember what had happened, only opening his eyes when the bedroom door was pushed open.

"Hey, you're awake." Sounding excessively cheerful Larry walked into the room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

He handed Michael the glass and then sat down on the edge of the bed. "That was one hell of a bang on the head you took yesterday." Larry commented.

"What happened?" Michael asked, taking a sip of water. His voice sounded weak and hoarse to his own ears.

"Car crash, that pile of crap you call a car lost a tyre nearly killed the pair of us." Larry replied carelessly.

Michael sat for a moment trying to remember the accident, nothing came to him. "So what happened?" He asked again.

"That isn't funny Michael." Larry took a sip of his coffee his expression guarded. "It was a car crash on the way to get that Noc list."

"The list?" He remembered the list, Brennan was blackmailing him into killing the people who had burnt him. "We found out where the list is being kept?"

"Yes Kid we found out where the damn list is being held!" A crafty gleam came into his eye. "What exactly do you remember Michael." Larry was trying to sound concerned, it wasn't an emotion he was use to expressing, he hoped he got it right.

Taking another sip of water, Michael shut his eyes for a moment, a throbbing headache starting to take hold.

"Doing a job for Brennan." They had blown up a car, the man in it had been involved in the burn notice. The was something else. "Then you killed him? You stabbed Brennan in the chest." A wave of dizziness and pain caused Michael to wince and squeeze his eyes shut even tighter.

"That's right kid, you remember why?" He asked softly, trying to gauge how much of Michael's memory was missing.

Michael didn't answer, his eyes remained closed and the glass he held almost spilling as his hand began to open. Smiling like a cat who had just got the cream Larry took the glass from Michael's hand and placed it on the bedside table.

If he could just keep Michael isolated a little bit longer, away from bad influences. The Kid would come to his senses and realize he had no choice but to do things his way.

A/N: A big thank you to all those that reviewed the first chapter it was greatly appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Into the fire again,

Chapter three.

.

_Turning an asset is a delicate business, you need to push them into a fragile psychological state, by working on their fears and isolating them from any good influences. Then when you have them backed into a corner, you can pile on the pressure forcing them to turn to you as their only source of support and advice._

_.  
_

Michael's head jerked as he woke up. He was slumped on the bed, his back resting on the headboard, his head against the wall. Rubbing the back of his neck he noticed the sun had moved round and was no longer shining directly into the room. Running his tongue round his lips he reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and took a sip. He was, well he wasn't sure exactly where he was, somewhere Larry had brought him after a car crash. He ran his fingers over the bruise on is torso trying to recall the accident. Brennan was dead and the all important NOC list was, well that was something else he didn't know. Vaughn, Vaughn would know about his debrief by now, he looked at his watch. Ten a.m, Vaughn had known for hours, he would be hunting him, hunting Fiona, Sam hell he would be after them all.

The thought spurred him out of the bed and straight on to his knees as his legs failed to work as quickly as he had wanted. He stopped there on his hands and knees trying to control the sudden on set of nausea and the red flashing spots appearing before his eyes. After a moment he pushed himself upright swaying slightly he took a tentative step forward and found if he kept his head completely still he could walk very slowly.

Larry looked up from his phone call when he heard a thud coming from the bedroom. "I've got to go, get those documents sorted out as soon as possible. Call me when they are ready." He hung up as Michael walked into the room as if moving over egg shells.

"You had better sit down." Larry said smirking.

Putting out a hand Michael felt his way to a large well padded comfy chair, using his hand as a guide he moved round until he could sink down into it with the least possible movement of his upper body. Sighing as he settled into the chair he let his head rest back into the wing on the chair.

"Where are we?" He asked trying to get his eyes to focus fully on Larry.

"A house I acquired a little over a year ago, in Fort Lauderdale. It's a safe place." He didn't bother with the details of the purchase, but needless to say anyone involved who actually saw his face was no longer around.

"Vaughn, is going to know by now, he's going to have that audio file because you killed Brennan."

"Michael, you told me to kill him, you had agreed to work with me but you would only do so if Brennan was out of the picture." Larry answered the accusation.

"I-" Michael stopped, the was something at the back of his mind just out of reach. He did say he would work with Larry, he told Sam Larry was going to help them. Was that it? It didn't seem quite right.

"You realized that turning that list over wasn't going to work. The was no one you could trust to hand it over to." Larry told him. "The only way you were going to be able to keep your friends safe was to leave them behind. I offered to protect you, give you a new identity, if we worked together. We planned on finding Vaughn's people and with my help you would kill enough of them to make the rest back down." Larry sounded very convincing.

"We don't have the list though, do we even know where it is?"

Larry got up and walked over to where a coffee machine was bubbling away. With his back towards Michael he allowed himself a small smile. Turning back he handed Michael a drink and settled himself in another chair.

"We were going to get the list when your car decided to blow a tyre. I went back after getting you here and the safe was gone, blown out of the wall. I think Sam Axe has the list and is planning to hand it over to one of his friends in the government."

Michael nodded, that sounded reasonable, it would be the right thing to do. Larry however was not happy about it.

"Stop nodding like it's all for the best. The reason you agreed to work with me was to keep that mother hen Axe and the rest of your little band safe. You think Vaughn will just let them hand it over?" He reached over to a nearby table and handed Michael the local daily newspaper, this was his ace. "Besides you have more than Vaughn to worry about at the moment."

Michael paled as he read the article Larry pointed out to him. He read about the accident, Brennan's corpse being discovered, driver of their getaway vehicle being killed and left on the road. The man hunt that was under way with him the prime suspect for the two murders. When he looked up at Larry, the man just smiled and took the paper off him and turned to another page and gave it back to him to read again. Glaring, he then read this other article about a woman's body being found it a city car park. Stabbed in the back and dumped under another car.

"The is no mention of it there, but they will find the getaway car from the accident in that car park and your fingerprints all over it. Sorry son but along with Vaughn you now have every local cop hunting you down as well." He paused, knowing if the younger man was not injured he would be in danger of losing his own life, as it was he sat back content to watch the anger building, finally he dropped the rest of the bad news. "And Vaughn must have contacts within the FBI because you're back at the top of their most wanted list."

"My Mother?" He couldn't hide the concern from his voice, remembering how the FBI's last visit upset her.

"Axe has her somewhere safe, or I assume he does she's nowhere to be found. Oh and your brother and his wife have, according to their neighbours gone away on holiday. They were seen packing up and in a hurry to be on their way very early this morning."

Michael sighed with relief, dropping the paper on his lap he balanced the mug of coffee on the arm of the chair.

"So what exactly is it you want me to do Larry?" He had to ask even though he could already guess the answer.

"We get that list away from Axe, send him and the rest of your friends on their merry way some where safe. Handing the list of agents over to the government will not get you back in anymore, you know that don't you? But you can still take down Vaughn with my help. We can cut a bloody swathe through all those people who burnt you until the are none of them left."

"That's a lot of bodies." Michael protested, but to Larry's ears it sounded half hearted.

"Nonsense Michael these are the people who ruined your life, who are threatening your family and friends. Think about it, they destroyed your career, your reputation, and they've turned you into a shell of the man you were four years ago. Hell four years ago you wouldn't of needed me to tell you any of this. Vaughn would of been dead as soon as you found out who he was." He was really warming to his theme. "Has Axe's constant mothering really made you so soft you're just going to let this happen?" Larry was leaning forward now, his eyes intense, hoping he was about to hear the words he had been waiting for since finding out Michael had been burnt.

"No." Michael replied his blue eyes cold and angry and for the first time in about eighteen hours fully focussed. "No I'm not. Give my phone I'll call Sam and get that drive."


	4. Chapter 4

Into the fire again,

.

Chapter four,

_When you are being hunted it is tempting to go on the offensive straight away, however it is important that you take a step back, assess the threat try and find out how bad things really are._

_.  
_

"Well Vaughn definitely knows about Mike's little chat with Marv."

Sam announced as he arrived back at the safe house, he was returning from dropping Madeline off at a motel filled with holidaying seniors, leaving her with strict instructions to pay for everything with cash and ideally stay out of sight.

Joining Fiona and the Jesse at the breakfast table, he reached across and helped himself to a chocolate muffin and a cup of coffee before continuing.

"I got a call from Barry, the are FBI agents sat outside his condo, which he is not happy about, and then as a test, I drove up near Maddie's and then across to your place Jesse and the are Feds watching there as well."

"Vaughn has people inside the FBI working for him?" Jesse exclaimed. Things just seemed to go from bad to worse. The whole thing was far bigger than he had anticipated. He got to his feet and started pacing the room.

"Probably just one person, but one with enough clout to send out the troops." Sam answered between bites of his breakfast. "Of course Mike being Miami's most wanted plays straight into Vaughn's hands and doesn't help us at all. I talked to a buddy at Miami PD and they also want to speak to all of us about Mikey's whereabouts."

Both Fiona and Jesse looked glum at all the bad news he was handing them, and he hadn't finished yet. He pulled a newspaper out of his back pocket, and handed it over to Fiona pointing out the story he wanted her to read.

"The was another murder yesterday, that had all the hallmarks of Larry about it. My guess is he's trying to cut Mikey off, making sure he has no choice but to take his help."

Jesse had moved round and read the article over Fiona's shoulder. "You think he would kill a woman just to try and trap Mike?"

"Larry kills anybody who gets between him and what he wants." Sam warned the younger man.

"And what he wants more than anything else, is Michael to work with him." Fiona finished the warning.

Before anymore could be said on the matter Sam's phone began to ring. "It's the man himself." He muttered showing Fi the front of the phone displaying Michael's name.

"Mike, good to hear from you buddy where the hell are you?" Sam had pressed the loud speaker on his phone and placed it on the table between the three of them.

"I'm fine Sam. I need to meet up with you, can you make it to Fort Lauderdale tonight for about eight?"

"Sure Mikey, are you alone?"

"No it's like I said before I'm working with Larry now and we need that drive."

Sam held up a hand to stop either of the other two speaking. Adding a warning glare at Fiona. Something was wrong, Michael was making it sound like they were working together willingly.

"Ok Mike where do you want to meet up?" He said, keeping his tone light.

"The is a place called the Quayside bar and grill, do you think you can find it?"

"Sure thing, eight tonight."

"Great, remember the drive." The line went dead, without even a goodbye.

"Sam!" Fiona banged on the table with her fist. "He said he was going into business with Larry!"

Sam winced and gave her a hard look. "You know what Larry does to him Fi, he doesn't mean it. We'll bring him back here tonight and talk some sense into him. It'll be fine."

"Who the hell is this guy? You keep talking about him like he's the bogey man." Jesse asked taking in the worried expressions on both his companions faces.

"Larry." Sam leaned back in his chair. "Larry is-" He was trying to find the right words to describe Michael's psychotic stalker. "You've read that dossier on Mike, well take all the bad things in it and double them up, then add a big dollop of crazy on top and you'll have scratched the surface of our Larry."

"So why hasn't Mike killed him already?" He made a shooting motion with his hand.

"We keep asking him that." Fiona had sat back down her body trembling with anger. "I think this time we should just do the job ourselves. He has too much of a hold over Michael at the best of times and with all that's going on." She stopped and shrugged her shoulders.

"I think you're right Fi." Sam spoke quietly, it was not something he would consider lightly. "Mike won't do it, so we're going to have to."

"Really?" Fiona perked up a little.

"Really. Now I think before we meet Mike tonight we had better decide where we're going to hide the drive and who we're going to approach to take it off our hands. Because after tonight we're not going to get much time to make plans."

.

Michael closed his phone looking up as Larry walked over and took it out of his hand. "Aw cheer up kid, once you've had a chance to get used to the idea you'll love it. All your little friends will be safe and sound and you'll have payback on the people who ruined your life." He laughed openly at Michael's sour expression.

"I've agreed to your plan Larry can we leave it at that please." He shut his eyes, over come with tiredness again.

"Soon, once you have the plan straight in your head. you're a bit forgetful at the moment, let's make sure you don't make any stupid mistakes and get somebody hurt."

.

A/N: Ok I know it's a little short, but the is another chapter nearly finished, it might be out tonight depending how it goes. I'm not as happy with this one as I was with the first three episodes it didn't seem to flow the same way. Anyway I hope you like it.


	5. Chapter 5

Into the fire again,

Chapter five,

They sat in a beach front parking lot waiting for Sam to arrive, Michael watched Larry checking over his handgun, and then screw a silencer in place.

"I thought _you_ were going to wait here, while _I_ talked to Sam?" He commented.

"Are you positive you want to do it this way? Sam can be stubborn, my way would be quicker." The tone was light but the facial expression and the blue eyes hinted at the seriousness of the offer.

"You are not going to shoot my friends Larry." Michael answered "You try that, and you'll lose me as an ally."

"Well you had best make sure to bring that drive back here and we won't have to find out, will we." He slipped the gun on to the floor under his seat. Then drew Michael's attention to the man in the bright blue, parrot covered hawaiian shirt getting out of a grey Ford Mustang.

"Get the drive and then send your wet nurse on his way." The voice was hard now, as Larry watched Sam look around before heading towards the row of bars and resturants. "The longer you stand there talking with him, the more chance some one will recognize you, and then things will get messy."

"Larry, stop reminding me how to do my job."

"Well get on with it, and don't make me have to step in to tidy up your mistakes." Came the veiled threat.

Michael nodded and headed off following Sam at a distance, waiting for his friend to sit down at a table with a beer in his hand.

"Sam." Michael slipped into a chair facing his friend, the baseball cap he wore pulled down low on his forehead the peak hiding some of his features. Along with the cap, he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt borrowed off Larry, both too big for him adding to his disguise.

"So, how is the Lord of the undead?" Sam asked, scanning the crowd looking for Larry.

"He's fine Sam." Michael managed a half smile. "I've come for the drive, I take it Fi got it out of the safe?" Straight to business, no small talk. He had to start distancing himself.

"Yeah she did, we've been thinking about who to hand it over to, we-"

"About that," He paused, looking anywhere but at Sam. "I've decided to keep it, use it myself. It's too dangerous for the rest of you now, I need you to take my Mom and get somewhere safe."

"So you're still going into business with Larry?" He couldn't believe Mike could be so stupid.

"I know it's not ideal, but it's the best offer I've got." He finally made eye contact. "Vaughn has already shown me what prison life for me would be like. Not something I want to try again."

"Do you really think going on a killing spree with Larry is the answer to all your problems Mike? When we first realized what we had, you made the choice to get Vaughn and his organization shut down properly. You saw it as a chance to get back in, not just for you but Jesse as well."

"You don't understand." He replied quietly. He was a little confused himself, he had completely forgotten about Jesse, he wondered what else he had forgotten, or Larry had failed to tell him.

"Understand what? You plan on leaving the rest of us to deal with all the heat you're about to create murdering government officials, businessmen and maybe other spies." His voice had dropped to nearly a whisper. He really wanted to yell at the younger man but they were in a public place.

"Your way is no better." Michael could feel his temper rising, he had spent most of the day listening to Larry's nagging and now he was getting the same thing, just a different point of view from Sam. He began to massage his temples with his fingers. Before continuing.

"The is no way of knowing for sure, whoever we give the list to is not in Vaughn's pocket. It's better this way, safer for all of you if Vaughn is out of the way permenantly." So much for just getting the drive and leaving, Michael knew he was going to be hearing about his inability to perform even this simple task.

"Senator Cowley." Sam said. "He's an ass but we're fairly certain he's not on the take. He'd run with this, get it to the right people." He was not ready to give up on making Michael see sense.

Michael sat very still, he was looking at Sam but was seeing two of him, and both Sams seemed to be swaying and occasionally merging back into one. The rest of the people in the bar were becoming blurred and a wave of dizziness came over him.

"Are you ok Mikey?" Sam reached out and caught hold of Michael's arm as he began to swoon, his eyes losing focus. The episode lasted only a few seconds before he snapped himself back, however now his head was pounding, and accompanied by a strong feeling of nausea. Maybe he should of let Larry come to this meeting. It would have been loud and probably a little violent but it would of also been over a lot faster.

"What's up with you?" Sam wanted to know.

He tried to give Sam his best reassuring smile. "The's nothing wrong."

Sam didn't say a word he just continued to stare, his expression saying '_oh yeah_'.

"Ok, I got banged up in the crash." He admitted. "But I'm better now." He finished with a lie.

"If you pass out after a car crash Mikey you're meant to rest, not run around with a lunatic." Sam got to his feet. "My car's just over in the parking lot you'd best come back with me."

.

Larry was watching from his car, he glanced at his watch. It was taking too long, Michael was allowing himself to be sucked back in by Sam. He had known it was too soon, he should of held off a couple more days but, they needed that drive with the NOC list and he couldn't risk Sam Axe hiding it or handing over to some government official. Still he had a secondary plan, he reached for his phone and dialled 911.

"Hello, police. I've just seen that man from the newspapers who has been killing people. Michael Westen, he's at the Quayside Bar and grill. Oh my name." He hung up, and waited to be needed.

.

Sam Axe was walking back across the parking lot, his hand wrapped round Michael's arm supporting some of the younger man's weight as he appeared to stagger as if drunk. Larry started cursing, he had only made the phone call moments before, not enough time for a squad car to be dispatched.

If anybody was going to mess up his plan, it would have to be Sam Axe. Larry slid his gun into his waist band. Well not any more, Michael would just have to deal with the consequences of not controlling the situation. Axe definitely had to go.

"Why don't you sit back down." He stopped moving, one leg out of his car, one hand on the door. Risking a sidewards glance he saw the barrel of a compact 45 calibre automatic hand gun aimed at his temple held by Fiona Glenanne her eyes narrowed and her mouth grim.

"Fiona." He eased himself back inside the car his hands both now on the wheel. "It's good to see you again."

"The pleasure is all yours Larry." He heard her cock the gun.

"Do you think Michael will be happy with you shooting his new business partner?" He commented, a police car had just turned off the road and was coming towards the car park.

"I think after what you did to him last time, he wants nothing more to do with you." She replied.

"Really," He lifted one hand slightly. "Take a look."


	6. Chapter 6

Into the fire again.

Chapter six,

Jesse and Fiona had arrived in Fort Lauderdale two hours before Sam's meeting with Michael was due to take place. They discovered the was two car parks near the Quayside bar and grill, so they had taken one each and were watching out for Michael's arrival, knowing Larry would either be with him or nearby acting as back up. Sam had been very clear neither of them was to try and take Larry on, unless absolutely necessary.

Fiona couldn't help but smile, when from her hiding place she saw Michael get out of a black Cadillac. She had to presume the baseball cap and oversized jeans and t-shirt he had on was meant to diguise his features and build.

Keeping out of sight she watched as he followed Sam up on to the pavement and eventually into one of the bars. Once she could no longer see him she started working her way towards where Larry was waiting in his the car.

At first she did stay back, out of sight and just watch. It was only when she spotted Sam walking back supporting Michael and saw Larry reaching under his car seat she decided she had to act, keeping low she managed to get right behind his car, as soon as he opened the car door and started to get out she attacked.

Not wanting to give him any sort of warning she came up behind him her gun ready to fire, she hoped he would give her an excuse.

"Why don't you sit back down." She spoke up quite loudly, and was pleased when she noticed him tense. However he obeyed her command and slowly dropped back into the seat, placing both hands on the steering wheel.

She cocked her weapon as he half turned his head to look at her, he smiled that horrible fake charming smile. "Fiona." He sounded totally unconcerned. "It's good to see you again."

"The pleasure is all yours Larry." She tried to match his attitude but it wasn't easy, _God she hated him._

"Do you think Michael will be happy with you shooting his new business partner?" He commented, he had turned his attention away from her, a small curve of a smile on his lips, the corner of his eye crinkling. He was amused about something.

"I think after what you did to him last time, he wants nothing more to do with you." Her hatred was building, her finger itching to squeeze the trigger.

"Really," He lifted one hand slightly. "Take a look."

She knew she should keep all her attention on Larry, she had listened to all Sam's warnings about how dangerous he was. She knew, even though he was no longer in his prime he had over thirty years of experience in a career where many didn't last half that long. But he sat there with an amused smirk on his lips, one hand gesturing out of the window. Inviting her to look at whatever it was that had him thinking he had a way out of her putting a bullet in his head.

She should of taken the shot, instead she glanced across to see Michael pushing Sam away, his expression more angry than she had ever seen before. Then she realized her mistake, Larry had moved, far faster than she thought possible. A hand slapped down hard over the top of her own, as another grabbed the barrel of her gun and wrenched it upwards tearing the weapon from her grasp.

She fell back her wrist felt like it had been snapped, but Larry hadn't finished. Stepping fully out of the car all evidence of good humour gone, he brought a hand up and knocked her flat onto the ground. She looked up into the barrel of her own gun pointing at her chest. Lying in the dirt of a parking lot she stared up into cold emotionless blue eyes, her heart was hammering in her chest, absolutely certain Larry was about to kill her. She shut her eyes tight, she didn't want Larry's face to be the last thing she saw.

..

When it reached eight pm and the had been no sign of Michael, Jesse made his way along the seafront until he spotted his two friends sat at an outside table chatting. He held back and waited, following when they both got up and headed towards where Sam had parked his car, Michael wasn't walking very well, it took a lot for Jesse to refrain from going to help. He was there as back up, he could hardly keep his eye out for this Larry character if he was supporting an injured man. Besides Sam seemed to be doing quite well on his own.

Keeping back he could only watch as the two men came to a stop. Michael pulling himself out of Sam's grip, he couldn't hear the words but he could make out Michael's angry expression, and see Sam throw his arms out wide. Unsure what to do, he looked across the car park and spotted Fiona, her gun out and pointing into the driver's side door of a car.

He started making his way towards Sam, thinking Fiona had the situation under control. Then he watched in horror as Fiona fell backwards, the man in the drivers seat seemed to erupt from the vehicle. Jesse had his gun drawn as Fiona recieved a backhand to the jaw that sent her to the ground. He got off a shot just as the man levelled a gun at Fiona. The shot missed it's target but came close enough to distract Fiona's attacker. Jesse found himself having to duck for cover as bullets started coming his way.

.

Michael, on hearing the shot pushed Sam away as hard as he could, knocking him to the ground and then took off running towards Larry, his route taking him between the two men unloading bullets at each other, causing both of them to stop firing.

Cursing Larry turned back to his original target and aimed straight at Fiona's face. But he didn't fire, as angry as he was he knew Michael would never put up with him shooting his girlfriend, and Michael was on his way back to the car.

"It's always a pleasure Fiona, I'll see you again, soon." He told her and slid back into his car, he had the engine started by the time his passenger was inside.

Michael hurriedly got his seatbelt done up as Larry wheel spun away and out of the car park. They went straight passed a police car that was on it's way through the entrance. He glanced behind and saw that it had turned round and was giving chase.

"You better have that drive Kid." Larry snarled turning onto the main road and nearly hitting an oncoming truck.

"I would have if you hadn't started a shooting contest with Jesse." Michael gasped, pushing himself back into the seat, trying to control his breathing.

"So that was the new man, I'll remember him for the next time." Larry almost turned the car over making a tight turn into a built up area, wanting to get under cover so they could dump the car before the police helicopter turned up.

"Vaughn is probably on his way out here now as well." Michael wiped a smear of blood from his nose and then pulled the baseball cap off his head throwing it on to the back seat. "We need to dump this car." He pointed to the entrance to a Mall car park. Once inside the would be plenty of opportunity to get another vehicle or go through the Mall and get hold of a change of clothes.

.

As soon as Larry drove off, Jesse ran over to where Fiona lay on the ground clutching at her wrist, shaking gravel and dirt out of her hair. "What the hell just happened?" He asked.

"He got the drop on me." She admitted, climbing to her feet with Jesse's help. She wiped the tears from her face, and looked around seeing Sam jogging towards them from across the car park. "Where's Michael?" She asked.

"He - he went with Larry." Jesse told her, not really believing it, even though he witnessed the whole thing. He watched her face pale and then she turned to Sam who was now at her side.

"What did you say to him?" She asked.

"I told him where I left the thumb drive." Sam told them. "And said if he wanted to get it, he'd have to go and ask for it."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven,

Larry bounded out of the Cadillac a beaming smile on his face, the was nothing quite like the thrill of a shoot out, and the feeling you got from walking away in one piece. The only downer, he hadn't left any dead or bloody bodies on the ground behind him. Still it wasn't dark yet, and the was plenty of people on their trail, lots of time to cause some mayhem. He sighed when he looked across at Michael's moody expression.

"Aw cheer up Kid, none of your little friends were hurt. Did the boy scout give you any idea where the drive is?"

"No." Michael snapped, already turning away, pulling the baseball cap back on. "Let's get moving."

Following Michael as he moved rapidly away from the Cadillac, Larry was trying to calculate how much more stress the younger man could take before he would snap.

The was plenty of cars to choose from, unfortunately the was quite a lot of people as well. Michael stopped under the ramp leading to the upper parking levels, he couldn't quite mask his surprise when Larry slipped him his gun back, along with a silencer.

"Stop your moping Michael, give yourself permission to have some fun. The is only one way we're getting out of here."

He nodded towards the way they had come in, the was police officers at each entrance and exit. Overhead came the whirr of helicopter blades, Larry was right they were running out of options. If they didn't do something soon they would be boxed in. At that point he would have to make a choice, surrender or get bloody.

He wondered for a moment how long the police would get to hold him in custody, before Vaughn would snatch him away for a more permenant stay in a secret prison, or to an execution. He didn't think he could give in to Vaughn like that, not without a fight. But it didn't matter, because even if he wanted to, Larry would not let him give himself up.

He screwed the silencer in place and checked the clip was full and then flicked off the safety. He had an idea, maybe they could get out of here without turning it into a blood bath. Glancing at the older man he flashed him a big toothy grin, Larry was not going to like it.

Michael pointed out an old Jeep sitting in a parking bay, easy to break into, good solid bodywork and no airbags. While Larry kept watch he broke inside and got the engine started, he stood aside and let Larry take the driving seat. Climbing into the passenger seat Michael brought his gun out and shoved it into Larry's side.

"What's the deal here Kid?" Larry asked carefully.

"What do think the deal is Lar?" Michael countered, pushing the gun in a little harder.

"Oh, you're mad about your little girlfriend. She started it you know."

Michael froze that was not what he had expected to hear. He had hoped he could get Larry to spill a little more information on what was happening, he still felt the were gaps in his memory. Things Larry wasn't telling him. But this admission caused his mouth to hardened, and he leaned in closer.

"What did you do to Fiona?" He growled, the was a click as the gun was cocked.

"Really Michael, she pulled a gun on me, what was I expected to do? I took the gun off her. That was it, now take that gun out of my side." He looked directly into Michael's eyes, and the tone of his voice hardened. "Or I'll make sure we get arrested, you've far more to lose than I do. Good ol Larry Garber isn't Florida's most wanted."

Larry breathed a little easier as the silencer was removed from his side, and Michael shifted in the seat slightly.

"What you should be asking yourself is, why were you ready to put a bullet in an old friend over a little misunderstanding, yet you hesitate over wiping the men who framed you off the face of the earth." Larry commented as he put the jeep into drive. "I tell you Kid, somebody has really messed with your head."

"We need a cover to get out of here." Michael told him, ignoring his comments. "No one has your description, you drive I'll be out of sight. We get seen you can claim you're an innocent hostage, and we don't need to turn this into a massacre."

In the back of his mind Larry's words were beginning to have an effect. _Vaughn first, and then hopefully the real name of Management would show up on that thumb drive. Once they were out of here they would head back to Miami and get the drive._ He found himself starting to make a plan for all those who had ruined his life.

"You're no fun Michael." Larry muttered before starting to move off. Michael was too busy with his own thoughts to listen as he ducked out of sight.

The jeep crept forward in the line of traffic going through the exit, passing the two police officers on guard. Michael was as flat as he could get on the floor of the vehicle, gun still in his hand in case he was either seen, or Larry got bored and decided to start a gunfight.

Once they were clear he clambered back into the passenger seat. "We should change cars again as soon as possible, this one will be missed fairly soon." Michael said.

Larry didn't speak. He had known Michael for a very long time, he had noticed the slight change in his tone. He took a quick glance at his passenger noting the sulky, sullen expression had been replaced by a cold calculating one.

If he wasn't mistaken Michael Westen was hatching a plan, hopefully one that was going to make both of them very rich.

...

Fiona stared, watching the last of the dust settle after the police car took off after Larry's Cadillac. Michael had left her lying in the dirt without a pause. She snifffed and then hardened her heart, he had dragged them all into this situation with Vaughn seemingly not even caring who he hurt in the process. He had never told Jesse he was sorry for what he had put the younger man through. And now he had let Larry burrow his way back into his head. She was finding it harder and harder to see any sort of future for them, and she couldn't think of a single way of putting it right.

"Fi! Fiona!" She turned at Sam's insistent voice. "We need to go now, Vaughn's people are going to be all over us soon."

She nodded her agreement not trusting herself to speak. She allowed Jesse to pull her towards her car, not even complaining when he got her into the passenger seat.

"Sam wants us to separate. Make them split their resources." The young man told her as he followed Sam out of the car park. "We're to head back to Miami, get Maddie and then run." Reaching the main road they split up, Sam heading North, while they turned towards home.

Jesse put his foot down hard on the accelerator, building up speed his plan was simple, get to Miami as quickly as possible. But they had been travelling for barely ten minutes when the first black SUV pulled in behind them.

Sam had been heading North for quite a while and was beginning to think if they hadn't caught up with him by now he was probably in the clear. His plan was to try and contact Michael again, and have one final go at getting him to quit working with Larry. If that failed he had his sniper rifle in the trunk. Michael couldn't work with Larry, if the Prince of darkness had a bullet in his head.

His plans were interrupted by two black SUVs filling up his rear view mirror, he increased his speed and frowned as they stayed with him.

Jesse wished he knew where he was going, he had pulled off the main road onto a series of back streets trying to use the Hyundai's greater mobility to lose their tail, which had gone from one to four cars. It was on one of these lightening fast turns that their luck finally ran out, as the sports car lost it's grip on the road and spun sideways across the road and into the side of a building surrounded by scaffolding.

Fiona's car sat half buried by scaffolding poles the engine still running but definitely no longer going anywhere. Just before the SUVs that were following them could reach the scene the passenger door opened and Fiona got out followed closely by Jesse. As the first round of shots rang out they ran into the empty building.


	8. Chapter 8

Into the fire again.

Chapter eight,

With his head resting against the window, Michael struggled to keep his eyes open, the headache and dizziness were returning as the adrenaline that had kept him going for the last couple of hours finally left his body. Slowly he drifted off to sleep unable to fight the overwhelming tiredness any longer.

Larry had not said a word since they had cleared the car park, he had simply kept driving towards one of the main residential districts. They needed to make another change of vehicle, and then get out of the area.

Looking back he realized it had been a mistake calling the police, an unnecessary risk as it turned out. Now instead of being the hunters, they were the prey having to run and hide. Larry did not like being considered prey.

He felt a light vibration coming from the inside pocket of his jacket, reaching inside he pulled out Michael's cell phone. The caller ID showing the call was from Sam. Pulling over to the side of the road, he got out as quietly as he could, so as not to disturb Michael. With a wolfish smile in place Larry answered the call.

...

"Vaughn's here." Fiona commented from her perch on top of an old work bench. She had pushed it over to where she could use it to stand on, so she could look out of a small gap in one of the boards that covered every door and window on the building.

Jesse looked over from where he was hurriedly trying to cover the hole he had made getting them inside. "How many men?" He asked. As he finished wedging a large sheet of chipboard over the door with a couple of thick planks of wood. It wouldn't keep their pursuers out for long but it was better than nothing.

"Maybe ten, all kitted out for an assault. What have you got on you?" Fiona asked, realizing for the first time Larry still had her hand gun.

"My nine mil, plus one clip." Jesse replied his mouth forming an o as he remembered Fiona had lost her gun. "Don't you have anything else with you?"

"Yes, in the trunk of my car." She tried to smile. "Care to go out there and get them for me?" She jumped down off the bench.

"Not really Fi." He smiled back at her. "We had best get moving further inside, it's going to be dark soon and they'll be making a breach."

She nodded her agreement. "Let me try and get hold of Sam. Let him know we're not going to make it back home." She was trying to put on a brave face, but was thinking that the day couldn't possibly get any worse.

.

Sam was running out of options, the two SUVs stayed with him regardless of how fast he went or how many turns he made. The was a couple of times he had thought he had got away only for them to suddenly appear again. It dawned on him that some one in Vaughn's organization had to have access to satellite controls. If he was correct the was very little chance of him getting away, unless he could find somewhere to go that the SUVs couldn't follow him.

Trying to decide on his next course of action, he continued to break the speed limit , hoping they didn't start setting up road blocks. Then his phone started ringing, cursing under his breath he answered the call.

"Sam, Vaughn has got us cornered. We're in a derelict building all boarded up on the outside near the airport. We've only got one gun bet-" Fiona's voice was cut off. Sam guessed Vaughn must of activated a cell jammer. He saw only one option, he had to hope Mike was not being completely cut off by Larry.

.

Larry leant against the hood of the Jeep, and pressed the answer button, holding the phone up to his ear, he didn't have to utter a word.

"Mikey." Sam spoke straight away, his voice sounded strained. Larry's smile widened even further, this was even better than he could of hoped for. "Thank god you're answering calls. Vaughn has Fi and Jesse trapped in a building, near the airport. I've got two cars on my tail, I can't get rid off. We need your help."

"Well that's very interesting Sam, but Mikey isn't here at the moment." Larry could barely contain the laughter in his voice. It looked like Vaughn was going to do what he had been wanting to do for some time, with Fiona and Sam out of the way Michael would only have one person left to turn to.

"Larry put him on the phone now!" Sam shouted down the phone, not believing for one moment Larry would let Michael out of his sight for long.

"Temper Samuel, I told you the truth he isn't here at the moment." He glanced into the interior of the car to check Michael was still asleep. "But I tell you what, you tell me where the thumb drive is and I'll let him know what's going on."

The was a pause, he could hear Sam's breathing.

"If you don't put me on the phone with him now. I swear to God Larry I will hunt you down myself. And if that doesn't faze you, think about what Mike will do to you when he finds out that you were the one that stopped him saving Fi from Vaughn." Sam finished, his voice had got louder and more angry the longer he spoke.

"I'll tell you what Sam." Larry growled back. "I'm going to pass on your news when he gets back. But if you don't deliver that drive to me by tomorrow morning. Vaughn will be the very least of your problems, and if I do decide to come after you, Michael won't be able to save you or anyone else I choose to, shall we say, hurt."

"It'll take me more than a day to get it." Sam answered, "I've got to get away from Vaughn's men and get to where I put it."

"Tomorrow morning Sam. If I don't hear from you by then Fiona will have more than Vaughn to worry about." He paused to let the threat sink in before continuing. "And I think Michael made his choice earlier, don't you?" He didn't wait for Sam to reply, cancelling the call he dropped the phone back in his pocket. Before waking Michael he wanted to think of the best way to use this bit of intelligence.

..

They had secured the ground floor as best as they could, the building had once been made up of various different offices, finding nothing but cheap tables and chairs and a couple of broken window blinds, none of which that could be of help, they moved upstairs.

"We need to find something to fight back with." Fiona said, trying not to think about the bag of guns and C4 in the trunk of her car. "And I need something to support this." She gently rubbed her injured arm.

Jesse got her to sit down on one the stairs and then sat down himself, one step lower. Using a small torch he pulled from his pocket he took a look at Fiona's bruised and swollen wrist.

"I saw some tarpaulin downstairs, I'll go cut some strips and we can make a bandage." He glanced up from his examination he saw her face close up for the first time since before the car chase. The dark bruise on her cheek from where Larry had hit her showed up clearly even under a layer of dirt. The dirt that made the tear stains that ran down her face stand out even more.

"He does love you, you do know that right?" He spoke softly.

"He left us Jesse, he ran off with Larry and didn't even look back." She wiped a hand over her face.

"I don't think he saw you there Fi, he was too busy fighting with Sam, and later you were on the ground on the driver's side." He tried to explain Michael's actions.

She shook her head. "You don't understand, last time Larry turned up Michael promised he would never work with him again."

"Do you think he's had any choice in the matter?" He asked. "It was Brennan that blackmailed him into the deal at first, and now well, I don't think Larry is giving him a chance to think clearly. He obviously has some sort of injury from the way Sam was having to support him. Once we get out of here, we'll get him back and after he has had a chance to rest and think things through he'll realize what an idiot he has been." He patted her on the knee trying to offer a little reassurance. "Now I'm going to go and find something to strap your wrist up with and then we're going to find something we can use to fight back with until Sam gets here."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine,

After his little talk with Larry, Sam had let out a sigh of relief, it was obvious from the conversation Mike hadn't revealed where the thumb drive was being held. That was one weight off his mind. Now he just needed to ditch the two cars behind him. One glance at the dials on the dashboard told him the Mustang was almost out of gas, he needed to make a decision on what to do, fast.

He ended up making a loop back towards the car park where they had started off the evening. The streets surrounding the area were now filled with partying holidaymakers. Eventually he had to pull over, as the amount of traffic and pedestrians had slowed him down to a crawl. Getting out of the car he noticed Vaughn's men were out of their vehicles as well.

Moving as swiftly as he could, he joined the throng of drunken tourists, weaving in and out of the variety of bars and cafes, sliding in amongst the packed tables and chairs making sure he never offered the men following an opportunity of a clear shot or a chance to surround him.

Vaughn's men knew that they couldn't open fire, at least not without attracting an awful lot of attention. They weren't bothered, they were younger and fitter, and confident they could easily run down one older and heavier man.

Sam started to move with a purpose, he had a destination in mind. He broke free of the crowd and out onto the harbour wall. He was now running as fast as he could, his chest beginning to burn from the exertion, years of too much beer, too much rich food and nowhere near enough exercise were taking their toll. After one last look behind him, he lauched himself into the deep water of the harbour. Staying under the surface he struck out, wanting to put as much distance from his entry point as possible.

Many years ago he would have been capable of staying underwater for a good four minutes. Now he had to surface after two. He came up for air inbetween two yachts, as he floated his head just above the water he listened out for his pursuers. Over the noise of the revellers he could hear someone running along the wall, then a voice.

"We've lost him, he dived into the harbour and we can't see a thing out there." Some one talking on a phone, he guessed as he only got one side of the conversation.

"Ok we'll be there soon." Sam felt a moment of relief, they weren't going to continue their search. Then he realized that probably meant that Fiona and Jesse were about to face even more men.

...

"Come on time to wake up." Larry opened the passenger door of the Jeep and caught hold of Michael before he fell out of the vehicle. Pushing him back onto the seat, he used two fingers against Michael's neck to check his pulse. Satisfied, he gave the sleeping man a hard shake of the shoulders.

After a bit of mumbled complaining Michael opened his eyes and shifted on the seat to a more upright position. He wearily rubbed his eyes and looked outside noting how dark it had become.

"Where are we?" He asked, still struggling to keep his eyes open.

Larry ignored the question."Look, I'm going to get us another car, you need to pull yourself together. We've got a lot of work ahead of us tonight."

Michael perked up a bit at the talk of work. _What was Larry up to?_

"I got a call while you were asleep. I'll tell you about it when I get back, and you're more awake." Before Michael could ask any questions he shut the car door and headed off down the street.

Michael's eyes stayed open for a few seconds then he dropped back off to sleep.

...

Jesse had crept down the stairs and found the crumpled sheet of tarpaulin, using a folding knife Fiona had given him from her pocket he cut a long strip from the cloth, grateful that neither of them had any open wounds.

A loud crash outside made him jump, another crash came and he saw the wood he had used over the door they had come through begin to give. Vaughn was coming inside, with the improvised bandage in his hand he ran back up the stairs. After wrapping Fiona's injured wrist, they made their way up to the next floor.

"Fiona!" Vaughn shouted out, his voice carrying clearly through the building. "I'm only interested in Michael, tell me where he is and you and Agent Porter can be on your way."

She didn't bother replying, _how stupid did he think she was? It was insulting._

While Jesse kept a watch on the stairwell, Fiona scouted out the various rooms off the corridor. Her eyes lit up when she found what she had been hunting for, a store room. Pulling a clip out of her hair she set about picking the lock. She had the door open in seconds and shone Jesse's torch around the room, a smile came to her face. Cleaning supplies, lots of lovely flammable cleaning supplies. Maybe not as many as she would like but enough to make Vaughn's men pause for thought if they came much closer.

"Jesse." She poked her head out of the room. "Do you have a lighter or matches?" She pursed her lips as he shook his head. She wasn't beaten yet.

...

Larry lacked Michael's finesse when it came to stealing cars. He had never bothered to develop the skills to break into and then hot wire a vehicle. He prefered the more direct approach.

He had parked up in a quiet fairly well to do residential area, the houses were all detached with long sweeping drive ways. Most of them also were surrounded by trees and bushes to give the owners a bit of privacy. He was beginning to lose hope of an easy target, when he spotted what he was looking for.

An open garage, and a man vacuuming out his fairly new looking BMW. Gun in hand, silencer in place, Larry crept along the line of bushes. Once he was as close as he could get without being seen he waited for the chance to take his shot.

Even as the man's body hit the ground Larry was inside the garage and was listening out in case the shot had been heard. When no one came to investigate, he searched the man's pockets and found the keys. As quietly as he could he pushed the car out on to the drive and shut the garage doors. He let the vehicle roll out on to the road before he started the engine.

He pulled up behind the Jeep, an annoyed scowl twisting his lips, when he saw Michael had fallen back asleep. Banging on the window to wake him up. It vaguely crossed Larry's mind that maybe Michael needed a proper rest and but he dismissed the thought, the kid had kept going with far worse injuries, he could do so again.

"Out now Michael." He ordered, pulling the younger man out and on to his feet. "You need to start focussing, if you want to save your girlfriend's life." _That got his attention_. Larry thought as Michael's eyes snapped open.

"What have you done?" Came the instant accusation.

"Me? Nothing. Axe rang me, Fiona has got herself cornered by Vaughn. I said we would help." He paused, just for a second. "But, first you're going to tell me where Axe hid the thumb drive and don't bother lying to me, I know you too well." He wasn't as sure about this last statement as he made out, that was until he saw Michael's reaction.

Michael swayed and leant on the Jeep to stop himself falling over, he shook his head. "I can't tell you where it's being held." He answered his tone flat and emotionless.

Larry shrugged. "Ok, so you don't care as much about Fiona as I thought you did. We still need that drive though. I thought I had made it clear before, it's the price for my assistance."

Michael had a hand up rubbing his eyes, he looked absolutely worn out. "I'll go and get it myself." He offered.

"You can't drive at the moment. In fact without me you would of been arrested a long time ago. " Larry pointed out. "We go together, or Fi most likely dies and you sit at the side of the road and wait to get picked up by the cops."

Michael ran both his hands over his face, then up through his hair, he was trapped, if he wanted to save Fiona he was going to have to take Larry to the thumb drive.

Eventually he spoke. "Ok.I'll show you where it is." He sounded defeated.

"Well let's get going." Larry opened the passenger door of their new car. "Sooner we get that drive, the sooner you get to kill Vaughn and save the girl." He couldn't of been happier, it didn't matter now what Sam Axe did to try and stop him. The boy scout would be too late.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter ten,

_Maintaining an asset is a tricky business of give and take. Mostly it is take. But sometimes it is necessary to give a little. Just enough to keep them stable. It is of course important that for the little bit you give them, they give you a lot more in return. _

_.  
_

They were driving back into Miami, Michael sat in the passenger seat his expression frosty, he stared out at the road ahead with narrowed eyes, while he chewed on his upper lip, deep in thought. Larry glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, he had seen that same look before. A long time ago, back in the early nineties. It was a look normally reserved for those times where something had gone wrong and they were looking for someone to blame.

"I'm going stop at the next gas station, get you a couple of energy drinks and something to eat. Then you can tell me exactly where we're going." Larry commented.

"We should of gone to help Fi and Jesse first." Michael said continuing to stare out of the window. Sam had hidden the drive in the one place he should never of agreed to take Larry, yet here he was leading the man straight there. Then again, maybe Sam should of never have left the drive there in the first place.

"If they can't last a couple of hours, they deserve all they get." Larry replied, he had spotted a gas station and was slowing down to pull in. "Besides, I have a weapons cache in Miami, we can prepare properly. A couple of thermal image scopes, C4, assault rifles. You'll love it." Privately he hoped to delay returning to Fort Lauderdale and starting the search for Fiona for as long as possible.

Returning to the car loaded down with energy drinks and a variety of snacks, Larry dumped the lot on Michael's lap. As he started the engine he gave a short laugh. "This will cheer you up, every one in the store is still alive. How's that for self control."

Michael scowled back as he twisted open one of the bottles of drink. "How very noble of you." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

As they entered Miami, Michael began to direct Larry to their destination. Finally they pulled up outside the Golden Sun Motel. The food and drink had improved Michael's condition but not by much, he turned to Larry.

"Ok I've brought you here, now you wait in the car and I'll go and get it."

"No." Larry drawled back. "I'll come with you." He had expected Michael to dig in his heels at this point.

Michael looked away, he really wished the fog that seemed to be effecting his ability to think clearly would lift. He knew he was better than this, he wasn't sure who he was more angry with, himself for not being able to get out of the situation. Sam for putting him in the situation in the first place, or Larry for, well for just being Larry.

"No. You stay here, I'm not taking you with me." He meant it this time, the was an edge creeping into his voice.

"Michael we go and get that drive now, together. Or I go and get it myself, there's only one person you would put before your little gun runner girlfriend. So if you want Mommy dearest to be still breathing in an hours time get out of the car now."

Michael shifted in his seat, Larry noticed the hand curling round the grip of the handgun that he had given Michael earlier. "I don't want you near her. I'll get it."

Larry knew he was very close to getting shot, maybe it was time to back off a little bit. He was after all getting what he wanted.

"Ok you feel that strongly about it. You go in alone. You have five minutes."

Michael nodded, then left the car, slipping the gun into his waistband and hiding it under the t shirt. He followed the pathway round to the stairs that led to the upper floor of rooms. This motel had been picked as soon as Brennan had turned up on the scene as somewhere safe for his Mother to be hidden away. He was torn as to whether he wanted her to be here, or he wanted Sam to of chosen some other hiding place that would protect her from him and Larry.

..

Fiona was not going to be beat by a lack of matches, she hunted around the store room. If they had left bottles of cleaning fluids surely they had to of left other supplies. After a thorough search she had to admit defeat. At least until she could expand her search.

Leaving the store room she went to check on Jesse. He was keeping a watch on the stairs, trying to listen out for Vaughn making a move to come up after them.

"I want to set a fire." She told him. "But I need some very fine wire, to light it."

"A fire, not with us trapped up here you don't." Jesse was adamant.

"There's fire extinguishers I saw them." She pointed out, undeterred.

..

Sam came ashore at the far end of the harbour, puffing from the unexpected exercise, he sat on the edge of the wall for a moment catching his breath. His phone was gone, lost in the water as were his shoes. Shaking the excess water out of his hair, he got to his feet. He needed dry clothes, a phone and then some sort of transport. Walking along the jetty, he started to look for a yacht that might supply him with some of these things.

..

Madeline was worried, first of all Sam had turned up and informed her she had to cancel her game of canasta, Michael had got himself into a bit of trouble yet again. Which meant she had to drop everything and go into hiding. Then came the news report on TV informing her that her son was a multiple murderer. Which Sam made worse by saying it was most likely the psychotic ex spy Michael was running around with who had committed all the crimes he was getting blamed for. All this bad news had got her reaching for her cigarettes more than normal.

On top of all that, first thing in the morning Sam had brought her to this cheap rate motel filled with a party of seniors who were in Miami to escape the cold winters of their home states. That she could of coped with, but he had put her in a no smoking room. Well she couldn't take it, she had to go out. Sam's instructions rang in her head, _"Try and stay inside as much as possible, and only use cash to pay for anything you need."_

Under so much stress, and with a room she couldn't smoke in, she sat out by the pool and smoked until eventually she ran out of cigarettes.

It was as she stood in line to buy another box of her favourite brand, she realized how short of funds she was becoming. She remembered Sam's words and rather than use her card to pay for a book and her smokes she left the queue and went to the nearest ATM and drew out the cash she would need.

When Sam turned up a little after five pm she ripped into him, how could she stay inside if he put her in a no smoking room. He said something about it being tactically the safest positioned room available. Then he had handed her an envelope and told her to keep it safe. He was going to collect Michael and then they would all leave together.

It was now close to midnight and she hadn't heard from any of them. She had tried all their numbers and hadn't got a reply. She changed into her nightdress and decided to get some sleep, the gentle knock on her door immediately brought a smile to her face. They were back, as she started to open the door she fell back as the men on the other side shoved their way inside.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter eleven,

Madeline fell backwards, as the door was flung open, she stopped herself from falling over by grabbing onto the back of a chair. Before she could do any more than steady herself one of the men had grabbed hold of her arms.

"Now Mrs Westen, don't try anything stupid. Some one just wants a little chat with you that's all."

"W-" She went to speak but the man who had hold of her arms, placed a hand over her mouth.

"Not a sound Ma'am." He told her, he nodded to the other man in the room, who held a roll of duct tape and a handful of cable ties.

They secured her wrists with one of the cable ties, and a piece of tape went over her mouth. "Now we're going to get in our car, you behave yourself and walk out without giving us any trouble you get to sit inside. You cause any problems though and I don't care how old you are, you'll get put in the trunk. Do you understand me?"

Madeline nodded, her eyes were filling with tears, her heart hammering in her chest. She left her room with a man on each side, her feet barely touching the floor as they hurried her down to the car park.

.

Sam walked along the jetty, following the sound of a lively party that was coming from one of the many yachts tied up in the harbour. He discovered a group of very drunk forty somethings. Using his Sam charm, he got himself invited on board and after excepting the offer of some dry clothes, he joined the festivities quickly becoming the life and soul of the party. As he mingled with his new best friends he came across somebody's mislaid cell phone, that soon disappeared into his pocket. Not long after, he started up a conversation about cars, and discovered that most of the guests had parked their vehicles in the very same car park he had been in earlier. Stumbling through the group to get some more to drink, he snagged a set of keys and was soon on his way to find the car belonging to the set of keys.

So it had taken him a little while to get going, but he was back on track now. Hopefully he could get the thumb drive, and move Maddy to a new location. He wondered if Larry was keeping his word to tell Michael what was happening. If he hadn't, Fiona and Jesse were in deep trouble. Still he could only do one thing at a time. He had to hope he made the right choice.

He drove as fast as he dared, keeping a sharp eye out for police patrols, he couldn't risk getting stopped and the word getting passed on to Vaughn. It was quarter to midnight when he pulled into the Motel car park. He almost immediately dropped down in his seat. Two men were walking at speed across to a plain looking beige sedan, inbetween them, her eyes wide with fear was Madeline. With no weapon, all Sam could do was watch as she was bundled into the backseat and with one of the men getting in beside her the other getting into the driving seat the car was driven away.

Careful not to get too close he followed the sedan all the way back out to Fort Lauderdale and a derelict building near the airport.

.

Jesse really was not convinced that setting fire to the building they were trapped in was the right way to go.

"It's going to take time for Sam to find us." Fiona stated calmly. "And one clip of bullets isn't going to keep all Vaughn's men away. I'm talking about setting up a sort of fire trap on the stairs. Soak the walls and floor in the cleaner solution and then set it all a light when they start coming up."

"If the fire really catches we'll be trapped." He pointed out.

"No we won't." She dropped a fire extinguisher at his feet. "Plus we go up to the top floor and then break through the boards." She glanced at watch they were a long way off daylight. "Once it starts getting light we can start another fire, try and produce something with a lot of black smoke attract a bit of attention."

Still not happy, but not being able to come up with a better idea he nodded his agreement. "Ok, but let's try and make it harder for them to get up here in the first place." He took the torch out of her hand and pointed it at a pile of debris lying around the floor.

"Good idea. It'll add to the fire trap as well." Jesse thought her smile looked particularly scary in the torchlight.

.

As soon as Michael had noticed the half open door he had increased his pace. Stopping outside the room, he listened for any sounds that would tell him somebody was still in there. Hearing nothing he took a deep breath and entered fast, arms extended gun cocked and ready to fire.

"Ma?" He called out, no response.

He continued to look around, noticing an over turned chair, a bedside rug pushed up on one side and the rest half hidden under the bed. His Mother's hand bag still on the table, an open box of cigarettes next to the bed, along with a row of medicine bottles. The last two were a sure sign of wherever she was, she had not gone willingly.

He finished clearing the room with his gun and then placed his hands on the table head bowed, the stress showing plainly on his face, his arms trembled slightly. Shutting his eyes tight he fought to maintain some level of control. The headache that had retreated to a dull barely noticeable pain was now back full force, he felt his stomach clench and gasping he staggered in to the bathroom.

Larry had stayed in the car only until Michael had walked out of sight, he had then got out and followed from a distance. He had watched Michael pause outside one of the rooms and then enter with his gun draw, obviously expecting trouble. When he heard no shots, he cautiously moved forward wondering what was going on.

Stopping in the doorway Larry noticed a thin trail of blood on the side of the door. He listened to the sounds of vomiting coming from the bathroom, with cool detachment. Instead he was more interested in the handbag sat open on the table. While he waited for Michael to finish up in the bathroom he went through the contents, smiling when he came across an envelope with a familar shaped object inside, he had found what he was looking for.

He slipped the thumb drive into his jacket pocket as Michael came out of the bathroom. "She's gone." Michael told him, and then sank down onto the edge of the bed.

Larry didn't say a word, he watched as Michael sat, leaning forward head in his hands looking like he was about to breakdown completely.

"It must of been Vaughn." Michael said, he was back on his feet now pacing, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose trying to stop the almost overwhelming pain coming from his head.

Larry had heard and seen enough, he was finished pussy-footing around with his protege, it was time the kid was brought into line.

"Michael!" He spoke sharply. "This is all your own fault." He told him, ignoring the look of devastation he recieved. "People like you and me, we're not meant to have family and friends. We're a danger to everyone we form an attachment to. You know that, wasn't it drilled into you during your training? How many times have you held the safety of a loved one over somebody's head to get them to do your bidding." He poured scorn into the words. "You've gone soft and got personally involved and this is what happens. Vaughn's playing with you."

"He said I'd learn what it was like to have him as an enemy." Michael spoke softly, his tone flat, lifeless.

"Well he's certainly doing that Son." Larry answered grimly. "But don't you think it's about time he learnt what sort of predator he's taken on. Show him the real Michael Westen, not this watered down wreck you've become."

Michael had stopped his pacing, he still had an almost blinding headache but he pushed it back, his eyes had a strange brightness to them. He put his gun back into his waistband.

"Yeah, I think you might be right." He muttered. Larry was only telling him what he had been saying all along, without the protection of an agency he was a danger to all his friends and family.

After Larry's little pep talk Michael was ready to move, he started towards the door. However Larry held out a hand and stopped him in his tracks.

"That headache of yours isn't getting any better is it?" Now he had Michael's attention, he changed his tactics.

"It doesn't matter." Michael replied trying to push passed.

"Yes it does." Larry returned the push a little harder, forcing Michael back further in to the room. "You're weak, and next to useless in your present condition."

"So what do you want me to to about it, Larry?" Michael shot back. "You just told me to go after Vaughn, and that's what I'm trying to do."

"When we leave here, you sit in the car and don't move a muscle. You don't ask a single question, try and give me a single order, suggestion or whatever you want to call it."

"I don't trust you Larry." Michael told him. "It would be a lot easier for you if Fi, Sam or even my Mom were just killed by Vaughn."

"That's right kid, it would be a hell of a lot easier with those albatrosses dead. But you really don't have much choice in the matter." He shut the door and leant against it. "Because you're not going anywhere until we have an agreement. You rest and trust me to supply the guns we need and to find your friends. Or we stay here until you either pass out or improve enough to take me on. You decide." Shark like smile firmly in place, he continued to block the way out and waited.


	12. Chapter 12

Into the fire again.

Chapter thirteen,

_To survive long term in the field you need to be able to count on somebody to watch your back. Because if you're constantly having to look over your shoulder, you might miss the danger that's right in front of you. _

...

Michael stared at Larry, his eyes narrowed and his hand strayed closer to the gun nestling in the small of his back. He was giving serious thought to shooting the smiling, jovial faced man who blocked the way out of his Mother's motel room. He stopped himself from completing the draw, as he noticed the way Larry's arms were crossed over his chest, right hand hidden inside his jacket, right about where the handle of his gun would be in it's shoulder holster.

Moving his hand slowly away from his gun Michael did his best to ignore the broadening grin as he dropped into a chair beside the table. He shut his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, what Larry wanted, required trust.

"Is it that hard to trust me Kid?" It was as if Larry was reading his mind. "I mean you never used to worry about me having your back."

"You brought a whole cartel down on my head not so long ago." Michael angrily pointed out. "And I'm taking the blame for your latest victims now as well." His eyes were open, blood shot from fatigue. His hands had dropped from his hair and were resting on his knees.

"You keep bringing that up Michael. But what about when we worked together in the Balkans, or in Russia. Did I ever let you down?" Larry's smile was still in place, he was leaning casually against the door, his voice calm and totally reasonable.

Michael shook his head, it was the truth, when they had been a team Larry had never let him down, and he had never, as far as he knew lied to him either. That was of course all a long time ago. He had been a different kind of man then, and Larry, well it was before Larry had faked his death and turned into a freelance assassin.

"You'll keep up your end of the deal?" A part of him fought against what he was about to do. But it was a part that was getting smaller the longer he was round Larry.

"Michael I want you as an ally, I'm well aware of what you'll do if I don't keep up my end of the deal." He moved away from the door. "Now shall we get in the car and get going."

_Deciding on who to trust is not always easy, sometimes it comes down to necessity. When that happens all you can do is hope you have made the right choice._

Michael got to his feet, and nodded his agreement. Another piece of his resolve fell away, if he wanted to protect his friends and family, he needed to rest. So he really only had one choice, he had to trust his old mentor.

...

It takes skill to tail another car at night when there is very little traffic on the roads. Sam had to use all his years of experience, to stay far enough back that Madeline's kidnappers didn't notice him. But close enough that he was ready for any manoeurves they chose to make. He relaxed slightly when the sedan took the road sign posted for the airport. It meant that Madeline was most likely being taken to wherever Fiona and Jesse were under seige.

When the car entered an area of derelict warehouses and offices, Sam pulled over. He would have to approach on foot, a strange car in the area would instantly alert Vaughn to some one nosing about. He carefully moved forward going from one piece of cover to the next. He had no weapons on him, except a couple of pieces of rebar he had found lying on the ground.

He could hear men's voices talking quietly up ahead, so he crept forward with even more caution than he had been using before. Ducking down behind the skeleton of a burnt out car he looked across to a four storey building that for the most part was boarded up. In front of the building were several SUVs, the sedan car he had been following and to dispell any doubts in his mind, sitting amongst them was Fiona's sports coupe. He was definitely at the right place.

...

Inside the building Fiona and Jesse sat on the dusty concrete floor in near darkness. Between them was an old metal desk drawer. Filled up with bits of paper, wood shavings and the shredded stuffing they had managed to pull from an old chair. Jesse picked up a handful of the paper, wood shaving mix and cupped it in his hands which he held out in front of Fiona.

She picked up the torch and switched it off, turning the room pitch black, carefully she opened the back of the plastic casing and removed the batteries. Holding one battery over Jesse's hands she ran a thin piece of steel wire, Jesse had managed to find earlier over the battery terminals to cause a spark. On the third pass over the terminals a spark jumped across on to the tinder mix that Jesse held and it started to smoulder.

Keeping his hands still even as the heat began to build, Fiona lent forward and encouraged the flames to grow by gently blowing on to them. After a few seconds Jesse had to drop the lit tinder into the metal drawer along with the rest of materials. As the fire took hold he started to drop slightly bigger pieces of wood into the drawer to keep it going. Fiona replaced the batteries and once the torch was working again she checked Jesse's hand making sure he hadn't got burnt. They looked up at each other over the flames.

"We have our fire." Fiona turned her head to look at the stairs, where they had built their fire trap. Piles of wood, paper and plastic on their own would of made the stairs hard to negotiate, but all of the garbage had been soaked in the flammable cleaning solution turning the stairwell into a lethal trap.

Before any more could be said, they heard another car pull up outside, this time they heard two doors open and then slam shut. "More re-enforcements." Fiona commented. Earlier two other cars, and at least four more men had arrived. It seemed like Vaughn was building an army downstairs.

"How many men does he need, before he comes up here?" Jesse grumbled, he hated all this waiting about.

Sighing, she got to her feet. But before she could move further or speak, Vaughn called out from the ground floor.

"Fiona! I have somebody down here who wants to talk to you." His voice easily carried through the deserted building.

Jesse was on his feet now as well, thinking they must of caught up with Sam. If they had, it was going to make getting out even harder. For a moment all they could hear was the sound of Vaughn's voice without being able to make out the actual words.

"Fiona?" It was Madeline, there was a tremor in her tone. " Don't listen to him, do wha-" Her words ended with a strangled shriek.

Jesse grabbed hold of Fiona before she could make a run for the stairs. "Leave her alone!" She shouted, as Jesse's sudden grip on her arm had pulled her up sharply. "Quiet." He hissed. Up until her shout Vaughn had no idea exactly where they were in the building.

" You have five minutes to come down here, after that Michael's Mom won't be doing so well." He called out, sounding very pleased with himself.

…

Sam heard Madeline cry out and it took all his control to stay hidden. He scanned the area hoping to see some sign that Michael had managed to find the place. But he could see nothing except Vaughn's mercenaries standing on sentry duty.

The fact that they were willing to hurt an elderly woman to get what they wanted, made Sam realize he had to act now. If he waited, Madeline could be seriously hurt or maybe killed. Hopelessly outgunned he saw only one safe way out of the situation.


	13. Chapter 13

Into the fire again.

Chapter Thirteen,

" You have five minutes to come down here, after that Michael's Mom won't be doing so well." Vaughn shouted out.

He paused, hoping to get another response from either of Michael Westen's associates. When they remained silent, he turned his attention to Westen's Mother, who was sat on the floor where she had fallen after her ill advised bout of bravado. He nodded to one of his men to pull the woman to her feet.

"You had better hope your Son's friends have the information I want." He told her, supremely confident he was going to have the whole situation wrapped up by daylight.

"You had better hope my Son doesn't kill you for this." Madeline spat the words back at him.

Vaughn's smiled slipped. "Tie her up and gag her." He ordered, turning away before Madeline could say anything else.

...

Fiona stood still, her body rigid, showing the tension she was under, one arm was wrapped round her waist as if hugging herself, her other hand was up near her mouth, as she chewed on one of her knuckles. In the firelight she looked pale and drawn.

"We have no choice." She spoke softly, she was still trying to desperately think of a way they could all get out of this alive. _Where the hell were Michael and Sam?_

Jesse moved away to peak down the stairs, hoping he could pick up on what was going on down there. He could hear equipment being moved and the low hum of voices, but he couldn't make out what they were doing or saying. He turned back towards Fiona, the five minutes were almost up and for that whole time she hadn't moved.

He had never felt so far out of his depth, he was counter intelligence, a desk jockey. What on earth had he been thinking getting himself involved in this dangerous game that Michael and this guy Vaughn seemed to be playing.

As soon as he had seen the data contained on that thumb drive he had just wanted to get rid of it. Pass it on to somebody far higher up the food chain than himself. It wasn't that he was afraid of a fight, but this went into every part of the government, law enforcement and the corporate business world. As far as he could work out the was no way they could beat these guys.

He walked back to her side. "When we get down there, I'll say I'll tell him where the NOC list is, but he has to let you and Maddy go first."

His words broke her concentration. She admired his courage, but he was fooling himself if he thought Vaughn would let them go whether they gave up the information or not.

"We need to try and delay him as much as possible. Michael will turn up. Him and Sam will have thought of something. Only if it comes down to it, do _we_ give up the drive for Maddy's freedom." She replied.

It struck her at that moment, Madeline hadn't given up the thumb drive, she already had a great deal of respect for Michael's Mother. But this raised her even higher in Fiona's esteem. _If they got out_, no she corrected herself. _when they got out of this, she was going to make sure Michael started visiting his Mother everyday, not just when he wanted something from her._

_...  
_

Vaughn looked at his watch, the five minutes were up. He moved to the bottom of the stairs, flanked by two of his men.

"Come down now, or say good bye to Mama Westen!" He shouted. To add to the effect of his words he cocked his own gun.

There was a scraping sound and several thuds, as debris was moved out of the way. "Ok Vaughn, we're coming down. Don't shoot." Jesse shouted out.

"Come down slowly, unarmed and your hands on your heads." Vaughn ordered. Moving back to allow his men to make the prisoners secure.

They came down slowly, hands held high. At the bottom, they were thrown roughly to the ground and searched none to gently. Finally their hands were cable tied behind their backs and they were forced on to their knees to face a very happy looking Vaughn.

….

Michael locked his Mother's motel room door, they had left the inside exactly as they had found it. After putting the room key into his pocket Michael followed Larry down to the car park. Once they reached the car, Michael paused when Larry opened the back door, and gestured for him to get in.

"If you're sat up in the front seat, you're in plain sight for any cop who looks in or nosy passer by who has seen the news or read a paper in the last twenty four hours. Now you know me Michael, I'll kill anyone who gets in my way. But I thought you were a bit more squeamish." Larry explained.

"Sure you don't want me to travel in the trunk?" Michael grumbled, as he slid onto the back seat.

"Only if you want to Michael." Came the cheery reply, as Larry slammed the door shut.

Starting up the engine, Larry looked back through the rear view mirror. "Remember the deal kid? You lie down and get some sleep. I'll wake you when there is some killing to be done."

Sighing, Michael removed his gun from his waistband and placed it in the foot well behind the driver's seat. Then he let his upper body fold down on to the back seat and rested his head on his arm. It wasn't particularly comfortable but he was used to sleeping wherever and whenever he got the chance, and at the moment he was very tired.

He felt a slight pang of doubt, if Larry betrayed him now all his friends plus his Mother would be dead and he would of slept through the whole thing. He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind, he really had no choice. He couldn't afford to let doubt cloud his judgement, if he didn't rest he wouldn't be capable of saving them anyway. By the time Larry was out onto the Causeway he had drifted off to sleep.

He woke up when the car stopped and Larry got out, on hearing the creak of a set of gates being opened he started to sit up. Larry was back in the car, driving it into a large brick built store room. Michael looked round, the was a rack of assault rifles, boxes of ammunition stacked on shelves, a variety of revolvers and semi automatic hand guns on a large table.

"Stay put Michael, I'm just getting supplies and then we'll be on our way." Larry spoke as he got out of the car.

Michael still too weary to argue laid back, and shut his eyes. He was aware of Larry dropping a variety of items into the trunk of the car, he also vaguely heard the static and crackling voices coming from what was most likely a police scanner. He had drifted back into a deeper sleep by the time Larry brought out a laptop and plugged in the thumb drive. He sat for a moment checking the information that came up on the screen. Satisfied he had the correct intelligence, he switched off the computer and returned the drive to his pocket. Then after a quick look to check what his passenger was doing he got out his phone and made a call.

"We're off to do the job now." He paused. "Yes, I have the list and he's agreed to work with me. Just remember I want to see that money in my account before we do anymore projects for you." He hung up. It was time now to head back out to Fort Lauderdale and earn some money.

Just before he got back into the car he grabbed a large manila envelope off the desk, he looked inside smiling at the enclosed paperwork, before pushing it all back inside. Slipping it into the glove compartment of the car he then collected the police scanner. It took him a few minutes to get it wired into the car and then he was ready to set off for Fort Lauderdale and the area around the airport.

They were twenty minutes away from Fort Lauderdale airport when the scanner came up with a call for a car to go and check out a report of an elderly woman being forced into a derelict building by armed men on an old industrial site close to the airport.

Larry reached back and tugged at Michael's arm. "Time to wake up kid, I think we have a winner."

….

Vaughn stood gloating over his captives, Michael Westen was going to learn what it meant to have him as an enemy. He was sick to death of these high maintenance super spies. Simon Escher had been bad enough, but at least he had settled for just causing mayhem. Westen had tried to bring them all down. Thank God he had slipped far enough to have friends and associates that could be used against him. He was truly looking forward to dragging all the information he could from these people, before he forced Westen to view their dead bodies. Afterwards he would stick the man away for the rest of his life, dropping him into the worst possible hell hole he could find.

"Sir." The communications officer broke into his thoughts for Michael Westen's future. Sighing he moved away to hear what the man had to say.

"A report has just come through. A squad car has been ordered out this way. An anonymous caller reported a suspected kidnapping."

_It had to be Sam Axe. _Vaughn thought. He wasn't worried. "Call Detective Coulson, tell him to get the call cancelled."

He waited as his man made the call, then swore when he was told the detective he had under his control was not on duty. Which meant he would have to deal with the officers who had been dispatched himself. He waved his hand to attract the attention of three of his men, who followed him out to his SUV.

….

Sam Axe watched from his hiding place as Vaughn came out of the building with three heavily armed men. He had half expected this when he had made the 911 call. Still he was ready, Vaughn was going to find it harder to get rid of the cops than he thought.

...

Michael came awake slowly, sitting up he yawned and stretched as best he could. Rubbing his eyes he tried to look out of the windows but in the darkness couldn't make out where he was.

"What's going on?" He asked. He picked his gun up off the floor, automatically checking it was still loaded and ready to use.

"A call on the scanner, the cops have been called out to a suspected kidnapping near the airport. Probably Sam Axe's work, he hasn't got the nerve to go in himself."

Still pulling himself together Michael didn't rise to the slur against his friend. Besides it was a good decision. Vaughn was unlikely to start a gunfight with the cops. His organization had a lot of resources, but he doubted they had enough power to cover up killing law enforcement without risking exposing themselves further.

"Do you have a plan?" Michael asked.

"Yes." Larry replied as if talking to a small child. "We kill everyone. You do remember that you need to make a statement to these people."

Michael let his head fall back on the seat, _Ah he remembered the old days of the early ninties. The fun of working with Larry Sizemore, a good day was when the body count stayed in single figures._

_..._

Sam could see two patrol cars clearly now as they approached, their lights on but sirens silent. He could also see, Vaughn's SUV driving up the deserted road to meet them. No doubt the slimy ex spy was preparing to flash a bogus badge of some sort and try to send the cops on their way. Sam started the engine of his 'borrowed' car and depressed the cigarette lighter. He kept a close watch on the cops, they had come to a halt now, the officers in the lead car getting out, guns drawn. Vaughn got out of his vehicle, his hands held up as Sam suspected flashing an ID card.

The cigarette lighter pinged up and Sam removed it and threw it into the back of the car. The back seat was filled with dried brush wood that he had harvested from around the buildings. Stamping on the accelerator he aimed the car straight at the parked vehicles, in particular Fiona's Hyundai.

….

"Officers, FBI." Vaughn walked towards the two patrol cars his badge and ID card in plain sight. "You are about to interfere in a highly classified-" His words were cut off by a loud and spectacular explosion, as Sam's 'borrowed' car hit Fiona's pride and joy. The flames from one reacting with the weapons and C4 in the other to cause a massive fireball, which lit up the whole area.

Sam climbed out of the dirt where he had landed after jumping from the speeding flame filled car. He had a massive grin on his face.

"Let's see you talk your way out that." He crowed. Vaughn was stuck now, there was no way he could order the police officers to drive away, and forget what they had seen.

.

A/N: Sorry about stopping here, but the whole chapter sort of got away from me. The second half is almost complete and I should be able to post it tomorrow.


	14. Chapter 14

Into the fire again.

Chapter Fourteen,

The first warning of trouble the people inside the building got, was the growl from the engine of a rapidly accelerating car. Those nearest the entrance saw the car's driver bale out, rolling off to the side of the road. They also saw the flames roaring away in the back of the car. The shouts of the men nearest to the front of the building drew the others forward to see what was happening, including those who were meant to be guarding the prisoners. Then, when it became clear what was about to happen there was a sudden dash for cover. None of those near the cars had any reason to think that the trunk of the blue Hyundai sports coupe held anything more than a spare tyre.,

The speeding, driverless car hit the Hyundai, smashing through it's fibre glass bodywork, embedding itself into the trunk. Petrol from the damaged tank spilt out onto the ground, as the fire in the other car spread forward, igniting the fuel and causing an explosion which detonated the C4. The explosion sent what was left of the two cars out in all directions. The fireball created hit the other cars in the line sending them up in flames as well and caused several more slightly smaller explosions.

The blast wave blew out huge chunks of the front wall of the building, flying masonry and the fire that followed, killed or seriously injured those men who were still close to the entrance. The whole building shook, and parts of the ceiling came down on top of those inside.

Fiona had reacted on instinct, years of growing up in places where there was a constant threat of bombs going off, meant she kept a clear head. She threw herself sideways knocking Madeline flat onto the floor. Then as plaster and pipe work from above started to rain down she crawled on top of the older woman to try and keep her safe. Taking the blows from the falling debris on her own body.

After the deafening noise, came complete silence, then came the moans and cries of the wounded. The confused shouts of those who had survived as they tried to process what had happened. All those who had been close enough to see the car, were either dead or severely wounded.

Fiona cautiously rolled off Madeline and onto her knees, assessing the situation. For the moment she guessed they were safe. The mercenaries were too busy sorting themselves out to be bothered about their prisoners. Leaning forward her body shook with a racking cough, then she noticed Madeline's terrified features.

"Madeline. Shh. It'll be alright." She croaked the words out. "Can you sit up?" With her hands still tied behind her back she couldn't offer any assistance. As Madeline struggled to sit, Fiona turned her attention to Jesse, the man was covered head to foot in a thick layer of dust, he had a deep cut on the back of his head that was still oozing blood.

"Jesse, you alright?" Concern plain in her voice.

He looked over at her through red rimmed eyes. "Yeah." He managed to gasp, in fact he felt numb, as if he was experiencing it all through a television screen.

"I think it might be Michael and Sam." She said. "Michael did something similar years ago in Belfast."

"He tried to blow you up?" Jesse couldn't understand.

"He set off an explosion, as a distraction to get me out of a bad situation." She coughed again, her eyes watering as more lumps of plaster and dust fell from the ceiling. "We need to cut ourselves loose and then try and get out of here."

Nodding, Jesse staggered to his feet and made his way over to where one of the dead mercenaries lay and managed to get a knife from a sheath on his leg. Knife in hand he returned to where Fiona was still trying to keep Madeline calm.

….

Vaughn and the four patrol men stood staring in awe at the fireball and explosion, unable to tear their eyes away from the pieces of flying shrapnel made up of car parts and building materials. As the shock wore off, one of the patrol men reached for his radio calling for re-enforcements, fire and rescue, and every other department he could name.

Vaughn went to move back to his own car, he needed to get a call out to his superiors so a cover up could be arranged. He had no intention on losing his prisoners, they were his leverage. Without them it was going to turn into a long drawn out battle to get that NOC list off Westen. He had only taken three steps when he heard the sound of a cocking gun behind him.

"Sir, you need to stay put until we verify your identity. One more step and I will arrest you." Turning round slowly he saw he faced the four patrol men all pointing their weapons in his direction. Vaughn's men were also out on the road now, their guns at the ready.

Confident, with a smile firmly in place, Vaughn gestured for his own men to lower their weapons. "Officer?" He waited for a few seconds for the man to give his name. But he got no answer, the four policemen were not convinced this wasn't some sort of terrorist cell. "I need to get down there, my own men are in that building. You are delaying a Federal agent, I'm sure if you let me make a call we can sort this out."

The shouts of the wounded inside the building carried to where they stood. In the distance came the sound of the sirens of a lot of emergency vehicles on their way to the scene. The patrol man who had taken charge nodded.

"Ok, we go down there." He agreed."But first you and your men hand over your guns."

…..

From his vantage point Sam watched as Vaughn was escorted back to what was now a bomb site. He could also see other emergency vehicles coming towards them. Now was the time to try and sneak down there before they had the whole area locked down. What he had done was very risky, he knew there was a chance his actions could of injured or killed his friends. But it was a calculated risk, he seriously doubted that any prisoners Vaughn held would be kept near what appeared to be the only way in and out.

As he got closer, and had to start picking his way through all the twisted pieces of metal and bricks, it struck him that Fiona was probably going to kill him. First Jesse had blown up all her belongings and now he had destroyed her car.

….

Michael knew they were heading in the right direction when a stream of police cars, fire trucks and ambulances came flying passed them. Then as they turned off onto a overgrown out of use section of road they could see the smoke of what once must have been a big fire. Larry stopped the car.

"You up to going the rest of the way on foot?"

Michael licked his lips it looked like quite a walk, but a walk was better than driving in and getting stopped. "Yeah, I'm up to it."

He stared at the smoke and the amount of emergency vehicles that were on the scene. He felt a moment of panic that maybe they were too late._ Had he failed them all?_

Larry had opened the trunk of his car and picked up one of the M16 assault rifles, he saw the look on the Michael's face and threw the the rifle straight at him. Forcing him to pay attention.

"This is what having attachments causes kid, stop moping about their saftey and start thinking about the job." He pulled out a holdall filled with the scopes and spare ammunition for the guns.

Michael checked out the rifle, double checking the magazine was fitted correctly and fully loaded, he then took a night scope from the holdall and fitted it in place. He tried to block out all other thoughts by concentrating on the mission.

He put himself back into soldier mode, Special Forces training taking over. This was like any other sniper assignment he had been given, it wasn't to protect his country as in the armed forces. This was to protect his family, and his friends. And just like when he had tried his best to never fail his country, he would do his best not to fail his loved ones. Whatever it took.

Larry watched Michael change, his moves becoming almost mechanical, the tight set to his jaw and the total concentration in his eyes. For now it looked the kid was back to his old self. Smiling Larry put together his own rifle and fitted the night scope. It looked like it was going to turn out to be a good night.

It was Michael that chose the spot to set their sniper nest, a single storey building with a flat roof, not much more than a shack really. Using some of the other junk that lay nearby, they managed to make steps that allowed them to get up on to the roof. From their vantage point it was possible to see the whole scene, yet they were far enough back not to be included in the security ring that had sprung up.

Michael sat on the roof, his breathing was laboured from the effort of the long walk, and then the climb on to the roof, a task that two days earlier would have had no effect on him what so ever.

"You sure you're up to this?" Larry queried.

Michael glared at him, trying unsuccessfully to hide a slight tremor that had started in his hand. "I'm fine, get set up and spot for me while I get ready."

Larry laid down, settling on his elbows, and looked through his scope. He spotted several possible targets, but it took him two sweeps with the scope to find Vaughn. He had only seen the man's photo from the dossier Brennan had made on Michael, and the image through the scope was indistinct and shaded. Larry glanced across and saw Michael was now lying prone next to him looking through his own scope.

"Near the ambulance with open doors, between the two guys wearing suits." Larry spoke, barely breathing waiting to see if Michael was going to come through.

Michael found his target easily, he scowled as he saw how close Vaughn was standing to his Mother and Fiona. He got the man lined up for a head shot, he wasn't risking a body shot with the man wearing a bulletproof vest. If he missed, he might hit one of the two detectives who were stood next to his target. He stilled the trembling in his hand, took a couple of deep breaths and then as his breathing slowed and he felt at peace, he squeezed the trigger. He didn't need to hear Larry's enthusiastic congratulations to know he had hit his target.

"Now the rest Kid." Larry urged him on. "Every one of those men down there is your enemy, you need them to know exactly what sort of predator you are."

Michael was looking through the night scope, he saw everyone on the scene taking up defensive positions, it was impossible to pick a clear target, and he knew a helicopter would probably be over head any minute. He started to get up. "I've got who we came for." He annouced. "We need to go."

Larry took in the scene, he swore angrily as he too started to get ready to retreat. "One body isn't going to make them back off kid." He growled as he dropped down off the roof.

"We'll go back to the motel and find the thumb drive, and find more names if that will make you happy." Michael snapped back. He lowered the holdall and his own rifle down and then climbed down himself.

"Don't have to." Larry admitted. "I've already got it. By tomorrow we'll have another target."

...


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter fifteen,

Helicopters circled overhead, flood lighting the surrounding countryside as the search for the sniper who had killed Vaughn gathered pace. Around the area of the original explosion, the surviving mercenaries had already been loaded into a police van and been taken away for questioning. Sam, Fi, Jesse and Madeline were all being held beside one the ambulances, as Madeline was receiving oxygen because of the dust inhalation she had suffered and Jesse was having his head wound cleaned up and stitched.

While all this was going on Sam managed to position himself near to the officer guarding them, and could hear over his radio that the shooter had not been found and they were extending the search. It seemed that Michael had managed to get away. The fact that Madeline Westen had been one of Vaughn's prisoners was fuelling the rumours that it was the suspected multiple murderer Michael Westen who had claimed another victim.

A crackle on their guard's radio announced that the FBI were now on the scene. Sam looked up the road and could see a convoy of black sedan cars approaching. He watched as they cleared the police security cordon and drove up to where they all stood under guard.

"Mr Axe, Mr Porter we would like you both to come with us please." Sam and Jesse looked at each other and then turned to where Fiona was sat with Madeline who still had an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose.

"Now please." Sam wasn't completely sure these men were actually FBI, for one their suits looked a lot more expensive than the average special agent could afford.

"Sam?" Fiona looked the men over, coming to the same conclusion, definitely 'spy types'. But on whose side?

Sam stood up straight and gave the two women a reassuring look. "It's ok." He helped Jesse to his feet. "Come on best not keep these gentlemen waiting." There was no way they could refuse the offer, so it seemed like a good idea to keep things civilized for as long as possible.

"What's happening?" Madeline croaked, pulling the mask off her face.

"I don't know." Fiona replied, trying to keep Sam and Jesse in sight for as long as possible.

"Why have they taken Sam and Jesse? Where are they taking them?"

"I don't know Madeline." Fiona snapped, but instantly felt guilty. Turning she gave the older woman a hug. "It'll be fine, they'll be back soon." She tried to sound positive as she pushed the oxygen mask back in place, hoping to stop the flow of questions.

"Mrs Westen Ma'am." Both of the women jumped. Two men, very similar to those who had just left stood next to a large black sedan with blacked out windows. "Ms Glenanne, we're here to accompany you home." Fiona wondered if the toothy shark smile was something the American government taught all their spies.

"You will both be quite safe." He continued, the supposedly reassuring smile still in place.

.

Madeline and Fiona travelled back to Madeline's home in silence. When they got out of the car, one of the agents placed her bags from the Golden Sun Motel down on the door step.

"Any problems ladies there will be a car out front." Neither of them bothered replying. Instead they waited for him to go back to the car and then Madeline unlocked the door.

They stared aghast at the sight before them. The house had been ransacked, it looked like a tornado had gone through the whole place.

Fiona started to swear, first in English and then when she ran out of words, she turned to her heritage and continued in fluent Irish.

Madeline looked around the room, tears welling up, she felt a dreadful tightening in her chest, putting a hand out to the wall to support herself she started to gasp for breath. Fiona stopped her tirade and grabbed hold of Madeline's arm, helping onto a chair.

"Madeline?" Fiona knelt infront of her. "Try to breathe, we'll sort all this out, it isn't as bad as it looks. Honest." She held the older woman's hands in her own. Unsure if she call for an ambulance. Slowly Madeline calmed down.

"It's all right dear." She sighed. "It's just been too much."

"I think you should go to hospital. You've been through such a lot. There's no telling what was in that building."

Madeline shook her head. "No, I can't face it." She took a deep breath. " I don't want to go any where. Honestly, let me go to bed we'll tidy this later after we've both had a rest."

Fiona wasn't convinced that it was for the best, but also she didn't want to try and force Madeline to go to somewhere she didn't want to go. She helped Madeline to her feet and then helped her to step over the mess on the floor. They both paused when they discovered her bedroom was in the same state as the lounge, but Madeline insisted she would be fine after a sleep.

.

Madeline slept all the way through until the following morning. When she woke up, her throat felt so raw that she dropped her packet of cigarettes back down on her beside table. She would delay her first smoke of the day until later. She got out of bed slowly she couldn't remember ever having felt as sore and battered as she did right at that moment. Slipping on her dressing gown she walked slowly into her lounge, stopping to look at the neat and tidy room. Her eyes went to where Fiona was running a duster over her shelves full of little ornaments. Those same ornaments had been all over the floor when she had gone to bed.

"You didn't need to do this." She croaked out the words. It was obvious while she had slept, her body and mind recovering from the shock of all that had happened, Fiona had spent the whole time cleaning and tidying.

Fiona turned and gave Madeline a small tired smile. "It needed doing and I couldn't sleep." She went and pulled out a chair for the older woman to sit down.

"You're going to have to rest at some point honey." Madeline told her, taking the offered seat.

"I'm better off keeping busy." Fiona told her as she went into the kitchen to make breakfast.

"Any word from - anybody?"

Fiona came back over to the table carrying two cups of coffee and some slices of toast. "No." She took a seat and with her elbows on the table she rested her head on her hands. "It maybe a while before we hear anything. At least while we have Feds outside we should be safe." She tried to put a positive spin on the situation.

Her phone rang at that point, looking at the display she saw the number was withheld, she'd had another call that morning exactly the same. A withheld number and nobody on the other end when she answered. Madeline looked at her as she slammed the phone down on the table top.

"It's some sort of pervert. That was the second time this morning, I answer the call and they hang up." She snapped. "Look I'm going to have a shower, and if you're up to it a little later we should go and restock your cupboards." Whoever had searched the house had thrown most of the food from the cupboards and the freezer out and ripped off all the packaging.

Fiona got to her feet, ran her fingers through her tangled hair then headed for the bathroom. She desperately needed to be kept busy, otherwise she thought she might explode.

...

Larry had got them back to his house in one piece. The whole journey, as he avoided roadblocks and dodged the extra patrol cars he ranted, firstly at the excellent headshot and how good it was to see the old Mike Westen back on track. Then he changed, to berating him for only the one kill, when there was at least six of Vaughn's men still breathing that shouldn't be. Michael found himself blocking out most of Larry's words, and just nodding and agreeing. It was the same technique he used on his Mother when her nagging got too much. It brought a hint of a smile to his face comparing his Mother's nagging for not visiting more often, with Larry's nagging for not killing enough.

Back at the house Michael went straight to bed, falling asleep just after his head hit the pillow. He slept almost all the way through the whole day.

When he finally got up, he found Larry getting ready to go out. "Glad you got up kid saves me having to wake you. I've got a little project, I'm going to gone for most of tomorrow. This," He reached over on to the table and picked up a thin folder, and a thick manila envelope. "is your new ID, I had it made up special, everything you need except a passport, that's going to take a bit of time." He slapped the envelope into Michael's hand. "And this is a little bread and butter job I was going to contract out. But I thought it would be a good start for you. Have a look, when I get back we'll go through your plan. Keep it simple, it's only worth ten grand so let's not waste too much time on it." He passed over the folder. "Now stay inside, do your homework and I'll be back this time tomorrow." He didn't wait for Michael's reply, just breezed out of the house without another word.

After getting himself something to eat and drink he sat at the dining table and opened the envelope first. Inside he discovered a series of documents, everything he needed to confirm his new identity. Medical records, school records, driver's licence, a couple of utility bills. He also had a bank account and apparently a second hand car business. His name was Alan Mitchell, he was from North Carolina. Michael wondered briefly how long Larry had been holding on to the ID for him and if like the real Larry Garber, the real Alan Mitchell was lying in an unmarked grave somewhere. Putting everything back into the envelope, he turned his attention to the folder.

He opened it, there was two photos showing a well dressed, well groomed man in his forties. He was a lawyer who specialized in corporate takeovers. There was no name on the photos only an address for his office. A single sheet of paper accompanied the photos with a detailed list of his daily activities. This was who Larry wanted him to kill.

After looking at the photos and the information sheet for half an hour Michael pushed the whole thing away in disgust. He glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was late. He decided to get some more sleep, he couldn't face looking at either of the files any more. As his head was getting clearer he was beginning to realize how far Larry had pushed him into a corner.

.

In the morning he didn't really feel any better, every scenario he ran through to get himself out of the mess he was in, ended up with him in prison facing execution. He took a shower and then went through the pile of clothes Larry had left out for him. It was as he was getting dressed he spotted his own cell phone lying on a dresser table.

The first time he dialled Fiona's number, he did it without thinking about what he was going to say to her. When she answered and he heard her voice, he froze. Just saying sorry wasn't going to cut it. He ended the call without saying a word. Throwing the phone down on the bed he went through to the kitchen to get some breakfast. As he ate a mixed berry yoghurt that he found in the fridge he thought about what he would say, what could he say to her that would in any way make her feel better.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen,

.

_Interrogation specialists know that getting information out of someone who doesn't want to give it up is all about upsetting the target's emotional balance._

Jesse had been kept in the same small windowless room for two days, he had been allowed only short periods of rest, and very little food or drink. He had been made to go through all his notes on his investigation into Vaughn's covert network several times now. He had done his best to cope with the constant bombardment of questions. Finally though they had left him alone, still in the same room with only an uncomfortable metal chair to sit on. Eventually he fell asleep with his head resting on the table and they left him to rest.

Shortly after he woke up, the same man who had done most of the questioning came into the room and stood to one side of the door. "It's time to go Mr Porter."

"Where am I going exactly?" Jesse asked suspiciously.

"It's not too far Mr Porter please come along now."

...

_However, sometimes it is clear that the person you are dealing with is well aware of any tricks you might employ. At that time it sometimes pays to try and get the target on your side._

Sam was in another grey walled windowless room. However, he was sat in a comfy high backed chair and was drinking a cup of coffee and eating a delicious cooked breakfast. He looked up when a stockily built man with grey hair came into the room carrying two large evidence boxes.

"Sam Axe, long time no see. Man it's good to see you. Wish it could be under different circumstances."

Sam eyed Jack Faye with suspicion, he hadn't seen his old Military Intelligence commander in ten years.

"Jack?" Sam wondered where this was going.

"It's ok Sam, we just need help clearing up a few details regarding an on going investigation." Jack smiled, as he took a seat.

"Where's Jesse being held?" Sam asked, if they wanted something off him, they would have to give him something in return.

"Nearby, he has a different set of questions to answer. Don't worry he is being well looked after." Jack pulled two sheets of paper out of one of the boxes. "What do you know about DNA?"

That had been on the first day which wasn't so much an interrogation as Jack Faye explaining to him what they all ready had. It was a lot. Afterwards they took him to a cell and unlike Jesse he got the chance of a full nights sleep. Not that he slept much.

That traffic accident had thrown up all sorts of evidence none of them had even considered. They not only had Michael's DNA but thanks to a couple of stray hairs on Brennan's suit they now knew Larry wasn't quite as dead as they all thought. Then when Brennan's computers had been brought in, the audio file of Michael's debrief had also come to light.

Sam was hoping that he would be allowed to negotiate a deal for Mikey in the morning. He just hoped it wasn't too late, because once Larry found out his identity was no longer a secret there was going to be hell to pay.

_...  
_

Michael finished his yoghurt, there was no way he could make Fiona feel better, he realized that now. He just had to tell her his decision and hope she accepted it.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, for a moment he held the phone against his forehead, his eyes tightly shut. He ran through his decision one last time, his mind was made up. He knew exactly what he was going to say.

He needed to know they were all safe, that the killing of Vaughn had given them the breathing space they needed. He wanted to know that Sam had either already arranged a safe house for them or he was working on finding one. Then would come the hard part, he was going to tell her she had to go on without him. He had got them all into this, and it was up to him to get them out. He would not give her a chance to try and change his mind. He would not get into an argument with her, because the longer he spent listening to her voice the weaker his resolve would become and he would end up getting everyone of them hurt, or killed.

He hated what he was about to do, it would be so much easier not to make contact. But he had made her a promise that whatever happened he would never leave again without a goodbye.

He dialled the number, and listened to the ringing tone, then as the call was accepted. He cancelled it, and angrily pulled apart the casing. And there it was, he had fallen for the same damn trick twice. Larry had bugged the phone, why else had he been left a means to communicate with his friends. He had no intention on letting Larry listen to him dismiss his loved ones, and he definitely did not want Larry to realize how close he was getting to caving in.

_A god damn bug and it had taken him an hour to realize._ He had thought he was getting better, and yet here he was making the same mistakes he had made in the past. He had trusted Larry, and he had actually thought Larry was trusting him. _How could he have been so foolish_. He went looking for a set of tweezers, it didn't change anything though. It was just a reminder that he had to be more careful. First the call, the longer he left it the less chance there was he would go through with it. Then to find a way out of Larry's claws without walking into a lengthy prison sentence or death row. With the chip removed, and a his mind made up he dialled Fiona's number a third time.

…...

Larry sat in his newly acquired car on the top floor of a city centre multi storey car park. On the seat next to him was one of his three cell phones. This one was special, it contained a tiny piece of technology that allowed him to listen into any calls Michael made on the cell phone he had left behind. Two calls so far to Fiona's number, which wasn't exactly a surprise, but the fact he hadn't uttered a word during those calls, well that was interesting.

He glanced at his watch, time for his business meeting. A big welcoming smile came to his face, as he exited the car to greet a very nervous looking computer programming genius. Clyde was his go to guy regarding technology, Larry had expected this to be an easy task for him. So why was he so sweaty and twitchy?

"Sorry man." Clyde whined, he had considered running but he was too scared to even attempt it.

Larry's smile faded, taking the thumb drive out of the shaking, outstretched hand. He raised an eyebrow in a question.

"I can't copy it." Clyde admitted. "I've run all sorts of programmes on it. It can't be done."

Larry sighed, people should really learn to stick to the rules, it wasn't as if he didn't make his instructions very clear, or that he hid what the consequences were for failing to keep up their end of the agreement. Clyde had been a good employee, he had said there wasn't a programme he couldn't crack. He had never let Larry down before, but unfortunately for Clyde, Larry had a very strict policy on failure.

All signs of good humour were gone, Larry decided it was time to head back to Fort Lauderdale and see if in between phoning his little girlfriend, Michael had managed to come up with a suitable plan for his most recent dead ee.

….

The shower did Fiona a world of good. The hot water had soothed her aching muscles, and helped to clear her head some what. After she finished off rubbing herself dry and got into one of the clean sets of clothes she kept at Madeline's for these sort of emergencies she heard her phone ring for a third time that morning. The mystery caller with a withheld number.

"Who is this?" She snapped. The line did not go dead this time, there was silence. No not silence she could hear breathing.

"Who is this?" She asked again, her heart rate started to rise. "Michael?" Still not a word, was he hurt?_ She needed Sam, he would be able to trace the call and find him. _"Michael, where are you?" She was beginning to panic, she should have known it was him all along.

"Fi." His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Michael, thank god. Are you alright?" She asked, her relief plain to hear.

"I'm fine, did everyone get out ok?" He didn't sound fine, his tone was flat, and emotionless.

She paused unsure what to tell him. "Sam and Jesse were taken away, they said they were FBI. I'm here with your Mother." She took a deep breath. " The house had been searched before we got back and we're being watched." She hated giving him all this bad news, but she was so tired and alone.

She heard him sigh and then clear his throat. "I'm sorry Fi, I really am. But I can't help you. You need to get some stuff together and take my Mom and run."

"What!"

"I can't come back Fi, you know it." There was a touch of anger in his voice now. At least he was showing some emotion.

"So what are you going to do?" she snapped.

"It doesn't matter." He brushed her question aside. "Just get out of town it's probably going to get worse before it gets any better."

"What about Sam and Jesse, don't you think we should -"

"There is no we." He interrupted. "Not any more. It's too dangerous." He brutally cut her off.

"Michael?"

"Bye Fi." The line went dead.

She stared at her phone in total disbelief, she tried dialling his old number, just in case. Getting nowhere she snarled and threw her phone across the room.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter seventeen,

Sam was impatient, he had been waiting to speak to Jack Faye since a guard had brought him some breakfast first thing in the morning. He knew he should be remaining calm, the more he showed how worried he was, the more they would use that concern against him. It was not the right frame of mind to walk into a negotiation to keep his friend out of prison. All he could do for now was sit quietly, and try to look like he had all the time in the world.

…..

"It's not too far Mr Porter please come along now." The man who had acted as the lead interrogator throughout Jesse's incarceration, looked remarkably fresh and well groomed, considering the amount of time he had spent in the small windowless room.

Jesse got to his feet slowly and stretched, he eyed the man suspiciously. This did not look good. He had answered all their questions, had tried to explain that he had been burnt before he could pass on what he had learnt. His interrogators had turned his words around and managed to make it sound like it was his fault that none of the intelligence made it through to the right authorities.

The exsistence of a covert organization that had managed to spread into all aspects of the government and the business world without setting off any warning signals, had caused great deal of embarassment throughout every intelligence agency. Jesse wondered if he was about to be made into a scapegoat for the counter intelligence service.

Stepping out of the interrogation room he found two more men waiting in the corridor, with his three man escort he was directed to an elevator and taken up three floors to what the display showed to be the ground floor. When he stepped out he was shocked to discover he was in the DOD regional Headquarters in Miami. He felt a hand grip his arm and encourage him towards the doors. He stepped out into the sunshine and had to put a hand up to shade his eyes from the brightness.

A limousine was waiting for him, and once he was inside with two of his guards, the third getting into the front passenger seat. He was handed a folder, inside was his badge and ID card and a letter revoking the burn notice and reinstating his position as a counter intelligence agent.

"You're being taken to DC, there is a flight being held. We took the liberty of packing a case for you. I hope you don't mind."

"What the hell." Jesse stared at the contents of the folder barely able to cope with what was happening.

"Sorry Agent Porter there is no time for any more explanations you are needed in DC to help with the internal investigation into the whole Barrett - Vaughn affair."

"I thought – I mean you made me -" He couldn't get the words out.

"I'm sorry but the interrogation was necessary, we needed to be sure where your loyalty lay due to all that had happened." The man handed him another folder. "This is your assignment, you'll be taken to your hotel as soon as you land, and then after a rest you'll be taken to your new office. I'm afraid with all that is happening you will be in DC for quite some time."

"What about Sam Axe, he came in with me? And the others?"

"Mr Axe I believe will be released later today."

"What about the others? My friends. The two women who were with us."

"They are both at Mrs Westens home. Apart from that I can't comment. Now you need to read about your new assignment we only have a short time before your flight."

Jesse knew that no more of his questions were going to get answered, so settled back with the folder. His mind in a whirl.

With no apologies for mistakes made, no thank you for continuing with the investigation and supplying most of the intelligence they were now using. Just a forty eight hour interrogation and he was back in and back to work.

…...

"There is no we." Michael cut in, stopping the flow of concern. "Not any more. It's too dangerous." He was deliberately short with her, it made him wince. But it had to be done.

"Michael?" He could hear the hurt in that one word.

"Bye Fi." He ended the call and dropped the phone onto the bed and then slumped forward hands over his face. It was necessary, he was keeping them safe.

He hated the thought, but maybe Larry was right he had become soft, forming attachments and getting involved in other people's lives had changed him. He was going to need to toughen up to get himself out of this situation.

…..

Madeline was still sat at the dining table having just lit her first cigarette of the day. She had left it until after she had drunk her second cup of coffee, but now however sore her throat was she needed her regular dose of nicotine. She had just moved the ash tray a little closer to her when she heard Fiona's phone ring. She paused, the cigarette held over the ashtray. Fiona was talking, the words not quite loud enough for her to hear. Getting to her feet Madeline made her way towards the bedroom door, the call had to be from one of three people. Then came a shriek, and the sound of a cell phone being thrown against the wall. It had to of been Michael on the other end of the call. Only Michael could cause that sort of a response from Fiona.

Madeline put a hand to the door planning on entering, to find out what had happened. She halted the movement, as she heard the sounds coming from Fiona's mouth, it had started as a low snarl and developed into a high pitched screech. There was words in that animalistic noise, and Madeline paled as she caught some of the more choice words and phrases. She gulped at the vivid description she was hearing of the things Fiona planned to do to parts of her eldest son's anatomy. Each sentence was punctuated by the sound of furniture being broken or fabric being ripped to pieces.

Eventually the noises of destruction stopped and all she could hear was loud sobbing breaths. Cautiously Madeline opened the bedroom door. The sight that greeted her eyes was horrendous, every piece of furniture was upended and then smashed to pieces, the bed frame looked like fire wood, even the mattress had large holes dug into it and the filling was spread all over the room. The few items of clothing Michael left at his Mothers were ripped to bits and now resembled rags. The curtain rail had been pulled from the wall, large sections of wall paper were also gone, Madeline winced at the marks where Fiona must off dug her nails into the paper to pull it from the walls. In the middle of all this Fiona now stood, bent almost double, trying to catch her breath, as tears ran down her face, and her mouth still moved in now silent curses.

Not since her husband Frank had discovered Michael had left home to join the army had Madeline seen such destruction. Strangely enough it was the same room that had suffered that time too.

"What's he done?" Madeline asked, ready to move back if her words set off another bout of violence.

Fiona looked up her, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Before she answered she wiped her the backs of her hands across her face. Standing up straight she stiffened her shoulders and stilled her trembling bottom lip.

"Michael rang." She spoke slowly and precisely. "To tell me he is not coming back. He wants us to leave and runaway."

Madeline's mouth formed a perfect o, she went to reach out to offer Fiona some comfort but stopped herself when she saw the look in those very angry blue-grey eyes. So instead she took a long draw on her cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke before speaking.

"Fiona do you really think he has left us because he doesn't care?" Madeline spoke in a matter of fact manner.

"What!" Fiona gasped. "No." She managed to get out the word, as she continued to fight to get her breath back, and maintain control of her temper. Too much had happened in such a short length of time, and this call from Michael had just been the last straw.

Madeline nodded. "No. That's right." she took another drag on her cigarette. "So why has he done it?"

Fiona bit her lip and wiped her hand across her face again. "Because he's an idiot who thinks he has to protect everybody. Even if it means he sacrifices himself."

Madeline nodded, and took a chance and patted Fiona on the arm. "So what are you going to do about it?" She asked.

Fiona thought about it for a moment. "Find him. Get him out of the mess he has made and then kick his ass until he learns the value of teamwork."

Madeline nodded once more. "That's my girl. Now if you don't mind I need some alone time." Still catching her breath while she digested Madeline's words she didn't notice the older woman picking up a bottle of bourbon on her way to her bedroom.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter eighteen

Sam almost bounded to his feet when the door to his cell was swung open. He was escorted back to the same room he had been in before. This time Jack Faye was already sat waiting for him, the evidence boxes stacked on the floor next to his chair. When the guard left, Jack indicated for Sam to sit down. The two men stared at each other, Sam determined not to be the first to speak. Finally Jack cleared his throat.

"A black flight is diverted, releasing a dangerous international terrorist, a British assassin is killed, police officers assaulted, a TV store owner is murdered and an FBI tactical unit is attacked while attempting an arrest. Oh and a helicopter is blown up on a central Miami helipad. Any of this sound familiar?" Jack waited for a moment but Sam remained quiet. Jack knew it was all familar, he was just making a point.

"Ok, how about when finally arrested, the main culprit is released into the custody of a covert team who now apparently doesn't exist. Still no comment? Then what about the photographic evidence that shows this same person entering a DOD building where he has no business being, or the fact he uses a forged ID to gain entry."

"Ok, I get where this is going." Sam held up a hand. "Mike has been at the centre of everything you've mentioned so far. But it wasn't his doing." He thought they had covered all this the previous day.

"Really? Because we don't have any proof of that. We do know he was the primary cause of Jesse Porter's burn notice, and the files he stole have a direct connection to what is happening now. We know John Barrett died while meeting with Westen, and Marvin Peterson was also killed during a meeting with him. We know that he is holding a piece of evidence that could completely open up this investigation, and lastly we know he is now working with a supposedly dead ex partner who at the time of his death was about to receive a thoroughly deserved burn notice of his own."

"He's not working with Larry?" Sam stated, leaning forward in his chair, this was not looking good.

"Are you sure? Witnesses at Machado's estate claimed there was two assailants, both armed. They all identified Westen and Sizemore. The witnesses from the traffic accident did not mention Westen being restrained in any way. CCTV footage from a gas station showed Westen sitting in a vehicle alone while Sizemore entered the shop. He could of driven away at any time. So that won't wash Sam. All signs lead us to believe they are working together and have intelligence that is of vital importance to our government."

"Jack, I swear Mikey isn't working with Larry, he was injured in that crash. He isn't or wasn't at the time capable of leaving. Marv Peterson was killed by Brennan, Michael was trying to get that NOC list to the right people when it was stolen. Surely that debrief under polygraph proved he isn't a traitor."

Jack shrugged, the debrief had in fact convinced him that Michael Westen wasn't the man he was painted, but the decision wasn't his to make. There was a lot of people who thought Westen was too mixed up in the whole affair to be totally innocent, as three very angry Senators had pointed out in a late night briefing session.

"Can you talk him into coming in quietly?" Jack asked leaning forward as well, his eyes keenly awaiting the response.

"Only if you guarantee him a fair hearing, and that the burn notice is reviewed along with all the other evidence." It was the best Sam could come up with, but with a fair hearing he was sure Mike would come out of it in one piece.

"You'll have to work with one of my men, and you'll only have a week maximum. If you or any of your team try to cut my man out, the deal will be off."

It was not want he had wanted, he had no idea how the rest of them would take to a FBI team mate, but there was no choice. He accepted the deal reluctantly.

"Good." Jack smiled and pressed a button on his desk. "One of my most experienced local agents, he has extensive knowledge on the Westen burn notice." There was a soft knock on the door. "Come in Special Agent Callaghan."

Sam blanched, this was bad, very bad. It was only recently Madeline had stopped complaining about a certain Special Agent Callaghan. He wondered if the was any chance that there was two men with the same name in the same department. He gave the man a weak smile, Callaghan gave him a blank stare in return.

…..

Michael, game face firmly in place left the bedroom and headed over to where he had left the folder with the information on the man Larry wanted him to kill. He was surprised at how quickly he came up with a workable scenario. Then it struck him what he was doing, and he pushed the folder away. He was not a mercenary, and he was determined that he would not be forced or manipulated into becoming one. He needed some leverage, he looked around room. Larry had to have at least a couple of slicks, hiding places, in the property. He just had to find them.

Two frustrating hours later, Michael had found nothing of interest and had developed a raging headache. He had thought he was passed all that, but no. Barely able to stand upright he had to end his search and lie down.

Larry arrived home an hour later to find Michael curled up on the bed groaning in his sleep, and the evidence of his activities plain to see in the rearranged furniture. With all the disappointment of not being able to copy the NOC list and double his profit, Larry was in no mood to deal with this insubordination.

"Get the hell up!" He snarled, grabbing hold of Michael's arm he jerked him roughly off the bed and on to the floor.

Michael used the bed to pull himself up on to his feet. "What the hell?" He slurred, barely able to open his eyes.

"You better have a strategy for our lawyer friend in place." Larry wrapped the fingers of one hand into Michael's neck and manhandled him to the table where the folder lay. Pulling out a chair he forced Michael to sit. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned moments later banging a glass of water down on to the table and holding out a hand containing two small round tablets.

"What are they?"

"Pain meds." Larry answered and dropped the tablets into Michael's hand. "I've decided the hit goes down tonight and then we're out of here."

"We need to -"

"We don't need to do anything. He eats out after work at the same cafe, he has a regular table booked for nine pm. I'll distract him, you'll spray his cutlery with atropine and once he has his heart attack we're on our way."

Michael swallowed the meds and took a long drink of water. "I can't be seen in a restaurant, I'll be recognized."

Larry smiled. "You'll be fine, if everybody is distracted by the dying man at one of the tables."

"Ok, what if we go, check out the exits and then -"

"You're not getting out of it Michael. You do this or you get out and go your own way. It's now or never kid. In or out. You know where the door is." Larry stood waiting for Michael's decision, hand curled round the handle of his favourite knife in case his student made the wrong choice.

…...

Finally having gained her composure, Fiona looked at the damage she had wrought. Her hands were now aching, and she looked down as she flexed her fingers and realized her knuckles were swollen and bleeding. Carefully stepping over the debris she made her way out of the room, she felt almost in a daze, her stomach felt hollow and empty. There was a mild persistent ache in her chest and she felt strangely detached. In the bathroom she wash her hands and wiped her face and neck with a cloth. Her eyes were still watery and red rimmed, there was dark circles under her eyes, making them appear hollow. Utterly worn out, she thought she would rest on the sofa for a little while and try and gather her thoughts.

There was a faint smell of hard spirits coming from Madeline's room. Fiona paused, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting Madeline to get drunk before mid-day. Knocking softly on the door she entered.

Madeline was sat on her bed a glass half full of Bourbon in one hand, photographs scattered over the bed spread. She looked up at Fiona. "I always like to go through my memories when he does this. I should really be used to it by now, and I suppose he did let us know this time." She sniffed. "That's an improvement of a sort."

Fiona made her way over to the bed, avoiding the mess left by whoever searched the property before they came back. "I'm sorry for losing my temper, I'll get it all cleared away I promise." She picked a photo of Michael at about ten years of age sat on a pushbike a big grin on his face. The image had caught her attention because he looked truly happy. There was none of the usual wariness in his eyes and no tightness around his mouth.

Madeline took the photo off her and looked at it herself. "His ninth birthday." She commented. "Frank had disappeared two weeks earlier, that's why he looks so happy." She took a long sip from her glass.

Fiona sat down next her and they spent a quiet hour, Fiona listening to stories about Michael's youth prompted by whichever photo she picked up.

…..

It was early afternoon when Sam Axe got out of Special Agent Callaghan's government registered sedan. He was not looking forward to this meeting at all, he just had to hope that the FBI team that had searched the house had removed all the weapons, and Fiona had not had time to go out and restock. A quick glance at his new team mate showed that at least the man had the sense to look uncomfortable.

"Just let me do the talking." Sam told him. "Keep your guard up for any flying objects, and don't let Fi within kicking range." He checked if any of this was sinking in, Callaghan did not look suitably concerned. Sam stopped, turned and put a hand on the Agent's chest making him stop.

"Maybe I'd better go in first, you know lay the groundwork."

"I have met Madeline Westen before." He spoke calmly, not quite sure what Sam Axe was playing at. "And though she is a feisty lady I am sure I can manage. Ms Glenanne is what five feet three and weighs less than a hundred pounds." He smiled. "Hardly a threat."

Sam was astounded, this man was meant to know all about Michael Westen, surely he read the available intelligence reports on all of his friends. He had heard Fiona described in a variety of ways but never as 'no threat'. Well he had tried to warn him, shrugging he unlocked the door and entered.

"Maddy! Fi, it's just me, good old Sam. I have some one with me."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter nineteen,

"Maddy! Fi, it's just me, good old Sam. I have some one with me." Sam called out.

Special Agent Callaghan followed Sam Axe into the Westen family home. It had been tidied since his last visit two days earlier. That search had turned up a stack of weaponry and explosives that any small third world country would have been proud to own. Unfortunately it had failed to turn up any intelligence significant to the present investigation and he had been disappointed when he was ordered not to pursue the weapons charges these people so richly deserved to be facing. He noted that the previous over powering smell of cigarettes was now competing with a floral scent from furniture polish and air freshener. It was not a particular pleasant mixture, he thought.

"Sam?" Madeline stepped out of her bedroom. Fiona following her into the lounge, the two women coming to an abrupt halt to stare at Sam and his very unwelcome guest.

Callaghan gave a snort of disapproval. What were these women thinking. Madeline Westen, last time he had seen her, had been a vision of red. Dressed in red, with matching cheap plastic jewellery, nail varnish and even lipstick. Her dyed blonde hair curled and held in place by a heavy layer of hair spray. She had displayed a feisty, if thoroughly delusional attitude and he had admitted, if only to himself, he respected her unswerving loyalty towards her son, however misguided it was. But today, it was after one pm, and she was still in a dressing gown, her hair not even brushed. She also had a glass, which looked to contain some sort of hard liquor in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

He then turned his attention to Fiona Glenanne, and he was not impressed in the least. She looked like she had been fighting, the evidence being the bruised and swollen knuckles. Her eyes were hidden by dark circles, and her hair hung in tangles about her face. She too held a glass of what he now decided must be whiskey or bourbon. Sam Axe was concerned about his ability to cope with these two women, the pair of them looked like they were falling to pieces.

Sam heard the sound of disapproval come from Callaghan's mouth and winced. That noise had focussed both women's attention on the FBI agent. It was like watching two very hungry lionesses spotting an injured wildebeest strolling into their den.

Madeline hissed in anger recognizing him instantly, the man who demonized her oldest boy. Fiona didn't know exactly who the man was, but she knew what he was. She tensed ready to go the attack.

"Get. That. Man. Out of my house. Now!" Madeline spoke from behind a clenched jaw. She jabbed her cigarette towards Callaghan to emphasize her point, ash falling onto the cleaned and polished floor.

"Maddy, I understand that you don't -" Sam took a step towards her, hoping he could defuse the situation. But he stopped when Fiona spoke.

"Nonsense Sam, we understand don't we Madeline?" Fiona had a predatory glint in her eyes now, her mouth curved into a very slight smile, she had guessed from Madeline's reaction the identity of the man with the scowl and bad manners. Special Agent Callaghan. She had hoped to get a chance to meet him. And Sam had brought him here for her at a time when she definitely needed some one or thing to relieve her tension. She split away from Madeline's side and was circling towards the FBI agent.

Sam changed his tactic's, Fiona was definitely the bigger threat to Callaghan, so he moved to put himself between the tall, heavily built FBI agent, and the slight slip of a murderously inclined Irish terrorist.

"Fi, Fiona!" He tried to draw her attention away from Callaghan. He took a chance and put his arms out to stop her moving forward. He hoped he wasn't about to regret what he was doing.

"Sam." Her voice had a dangerous sing song quality about it. This was bad. "Step out of my way please." She was being polite, it was worse than he thought.

Sam flinched as a plate sailed past his head, "GET THAT MAN OUT!" Madeline shrieked. Great now he was facing an attack on two fronts.

Before Sam could say or do anything else Callaghan intervened. "LADIES!" He shouted loudly. "Enough." He glared from one to the other, daring either to make a move. Sam sent out a pleading look to Fiona, his arms still extended.

"I'm not here because I want to be, believe me. But I am here to do a job." He noted all three of Westen's entourage were now paying attention to him. "Now, if we are going to bring Michael in safely, we need to work together. Because at this moment he is in a lot of danger from all sides. So let's get down to business. Has Michael been in contact with either of you?"

Madeline turned to Sam, if looks could kill, he would have been a stain on the rug he was standing on. "Sam I'd like a word please. In private." The words sounded like a request, but Sam knew better. He turned back to Fiona who gave him her most sweet smile. "I'll behave." She murmured in that sweet lilting tone. "I promise." He didn't believe her for one moment.

"Sam!" Madeline snapped, her foot stamping on the floor.

"Fiona, please it's important." He pleaded before going after Madeline.

Callaghan had watched this exchange with amusement, the whole situation was like a farce. How could he be expected to work with these people. He didn't notice at first that Fiona had moved closer, a dreamy smile on her face, a knife in her hand, _where the hell had the knife come from. _He thought. She stood before him the top of her head barely level with his shoulder, she was cleaning her nails with the tip of her blade.

"So tell me why you're here Special. Agent. Callaghan?" She enunciated each word. Not even looking at him, concentrating on her nails.

...

Once out of sight Madeline reached up and took hold of Sam's ear twisting it mercilessly. "Why is he here?" She snarled.

Sam used a hand around her wrist to help him break free. He put his hands on her shoulders, and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Madeline,I wouldn't have brought him here unless there was no other choice." He spoke calmly his voice deadly serious. "Mikey is in a hell of a lot of trouble, but if I can get him to surrender there maybe a deal for him. The full weight of every government department is after him at the moment, and Vaughn's bosses will be coming after him as well. This is the best I can do. Please Maddy rein it in for a little while. At least while we get Mike back safely." He gave her a reassuring smile and a light squeeze on her shoulders. "Please Maddy a truce just for the next few days." He pleaded.

She nodded her agreement. "But he stays in the garage." She knocked Sam's hands away. "Now, Sam I mean it. I don't want him in my house." She would make a deal with the devil himself if it got Michael back in one piece.

"Good enough." He relaxed slightly, one down one to go. He thought. Then came a sudden yelp. "Jesus, I tried to warn him."

They hurried back into the lounge as Fiona pulled the blade of her favourite throwing knife out of the dining room table, releasing the sleeve of Callaghan's jacket from where she had pinned it down moments earlier.

"He attempted to touch me." She stated and turned away. Walking over to Madeline, she linked arms with her. "Come on Madeline I think we need to get tidied up. I believe we are upsetting some people's sensibilities." She shot a glare at Sam as the two women disappeared back into Madeline's bedroom.

"Ok Agent Callaghan that went better than I thought it would. But can you please wait in the garage, while I try and salvage the situation." He encouraged the agent out of the kitchen door.

"She stabbed me!" Callaghan showed Sam the tear. "The woman should be locked up, she assaulted a federal agent."

"No, I believe she assaulted your jacket. Like I said it went better than I thought it would." Sam escorted Callaghan out of the house and into the garage. "I did warn you not to let her get too close. Now I'll just go smooth things over and then we'll all be able to sit down and talk."

…...

Michael was sat with elbows on the table and his hands over his face. There was only one answer to Larry's offer. If he said no he knew he wouldn't make it out of the chair.

"Ok." Michael spoke so softly, Larry wasn't sure he heard correctly.

"What did you say kid?"

"I said Ok, I'll do it. Happy now." Michael snapped. He had until nine o clock to come up with a way to stop the hit going down, and he had to do it without Larry realizing what he was doing. If he failed, he would be taking his first step down the road to becoming what he hated.

"Great." Larry positively beamed. "Now we'll have some real fun. Get this one over with and we'll start making our way through that list I fact after this one the books are clear we can concentrate solely on your problem." He slapped Michael on the back. "Get back to bed, you look like you need your rest. We've a few hours before we have to get moving."

Michael got to his feet slowly, so much for his great ideals, he thought as he went back into the bedroom collapsing face down on the bed. He lay there trying to come up with some sort of plan, but his brain refused to co operate. Numb from the painkillers Larry had given him, he fell asleep instead.

He came awake slowly, with a feeling similar to being hung over. A glance at the clock told him it was seven, only an hour until they would leave to commit murder, and he had no idea how to stop it happening. As he sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging forward, it was then he spotted the cell phone he had dropped earlier on.

A glimmer of an idea sprung into his mind. Not sure how long he would have without Larry being constantly at his side. He had to act immediately, he felt guilty, he knew it was unfair. But he had no other option if he was going to save this man. He tapped out a text message.

_9 pm a man is going to have a heart attack . Castillo's on Biscayne._

And sent it to Fiona's cell phone.

He hoped she had kept her phone switched on, and that she would read his message. Then all he could hope for, was that she didn't hate him so much she would let an innocent man die just to spite him.

After he poisoned the man, he would get Larry away as quickly as possible, that should give Fiona time to get the man the help he needed. Larry would be mad when he found out, but the guy would be alive and he would of at least saved a little bit of his self respect. It was the best he could come up with at the moment, it would have to be enough.

Pocketing the phone he got to his feet and left the bedroom. He found that Larry had been busy. There were several explosive devices on trip wires set up near the doors and windows. "Watch where you walk from now on kid. I like to make sure my place is secure when I go away." Since getting his way his good humour had been thoroughly restored.

They left at eight o clock, Larry still in a very good mood. As they drove back into Miami Larry went through the assassination plot. Michael sat in silence, letting the words wash over his head. He was praying Fiona would do this last thing for him. He didn't start to focus on what was about to happen until Larry stopped the car. "Ok, we're here, leave nothing in this car. I've another already in place just down the street from the restuarant."

He handed Michael the small cannister containing the drug, and then another gun. He smiled at Michael's expression. "You never know kid, and two guns are always better than one don't ya think."

…...

An uneasy truce had been reached, Madeline grudgingly allowed Callaghan back into the house as long as he stayed on task, in helping to get Michael back home safely. Sam had managed to convince Fiona to put her knife away at least for the time being, and lastly Callaghan had promised to keep his personal opinions to himself. So the unhappy quartet now faced each other around Madeline's dining table.

Madeline and Fiona were both pleased to hear Jesse had been cleared of all charges and had his job back. They were not so happy about him being taken to DC, as he wouldn't be close by to help Michael. Neither of them completely trusted the deal for Michael, but because Sam had faith that it would all work out for the best, they both promised to help as much as they could.

Then came Fiona's turn to admit Michael had been in touch, three times though he had only spoken once, She told them what he had said and managed to stay calm throughout, even when Callaghan asked her to give him her phone so he could try and run a trace.

It went against everything she believed in, but after receiving an encouraging nod from Sam she went to retrieve her phone from the bedroom floor. Picking it up she noticed she had a new message. Shutting her eyes tight, she squeezed the phone in the palm of her hand. _Had he come to his senses?_ Opening the phone she read the message.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter twenty,

_9 pm a man is going to have a heart attack . Castillo's on Biscayne._

Callaghan read the text message through twice, a smile coming to his face. This damn assignment was going to be over by the end of the night. Westen had given them everything they needed to bring him in. Getting to his feet, he glanced at his watch.

"I'm going to take this phone to the lab, see if we can get a number and location off it. I'll be back soon and we'll go through how to handle the extraction." Two killers off the street, and the information necessary to bring down a corrupt group operating within the government all completed in one day. Callaghan was seeing commendations and a promotion in his immediate future. As he ran out to his car, he was already on his phone, requesting a Tactical support team were made ready for action.

For several minutes nobody spoke, Sam had got to his feet and made his way over to the fridge. Getting himself a beer, he took a long drink and then looked at where Fiona stood leaning against the breakfast bar.

"I think it's a good sign." Sam's voice sounded loud in the silence. Fiona returned his stare. "I mean, he could have thrown in an apology, but he's probably under quite a bit of stress at the moment."

Fiona sighed and swept her hair away from her face and neck, holding it up against her head. "I've been to Castillo's, it's small and dark. If we try anything inside, Larry will turn it into a blood bath."

"In the open isn't going to be much better." Sam replied. "Look, Mike's obviously going to be expecting you to be there. If the rest of us keep Larry busy, do you think you could explain to him he's no longer top of the most wanted list. Get him to give himself up?"

Fiona let go of her hair and stood up straight."Do you really trust this Callaghan, to listen to us?"

"We don't have much choice." Sam answered. "I think he'll follow his orders to work with us to bring Mike in alive."

She nodded, still not happy with the situation. "We should get ready, if he's going to keep to the deal he'll be back soon."

.

It was eight thirty and there hadn't been a sight or sound from Callaghan. Madeline sat at the table, a cigarette in her mouth, an ashtray over flowing in front of her. Sam stood by the window staring out at the street. Unconsciously, he fiddled with the fit of his bullet proof vest, opening and closing the velcro tabs. Fiona, had plaited and unplaited her hair so many times her fingers had started to become stiff, she now prowled around the room her eyes flickering towards Sam at the sound of any car coming down the street.

After another fifteen minutes, Madeline couldn't take any more. Stubbing out her cigarette she scraped her chair back, drawing both Sam and Fiona's attention. She walked over to the breakfast bar, picked up her car keys and threw them at Sam.

"Go get my son, before that FBI bastard gets him killed."

She stood at the front door her expression grim, as her son's best friends drove off with a cloud of smoke coming from the spinning tyres. She stayed in place until the smoke cleared and then went back inside.

If she had stayed for another minute she would have noticed two plain sedan cars pull away from where they had been hidden around the bend in the road.

Sam noticed the cars as soon as they pulled in behind him, he was not in the least surprised when one accelerated passed him and across the front forcing him to stop. The FBI agents that got out of the first car came up one on either side of them. Sam let his window down, and the man leant in.

"Switch the engine off Mr Axe, you both need to come with us. Agent Callaghan is waiting of you."

.

_An ambush is successful only if comes as a surprise, and the force used is such that the intended target is so overwhelmed they are unable to mount a defence or escape._

The walk towards the restaurant started off as uneventful. It was nearly nine o clock and there was a fair amount of foot traffic but none of the people out seemed interested in the two men dressed in business suits walking with a purpose.

Michael kept step alongside Larry, his eyes were scanning the crowd hoping to catch a glimpse of Fiona. He really needed to see her, to know that she was going to do this last thing for him. He just managed to stop himself doing a double take. A young couple had just walked by, he could of sworn he spotted a tiny microphone strapped to the woman's wrist. He glanced round as casually as could and caught the woman with her hand raised near to her mouth.

It was the same moment that Larry came to a halt. He too had been watching the crowd, he had expected Michael to some how have got a message to Sam or Fiona about the hit. He had not expected to see FBI agents moving into position to attempted an arrest.

Michael froze in place next to Larry, _She had passed his message onto the FBI, she had betrayed him._ The tought sent his mind spinning and in that instant he forgot his training. As panic set in every one of his senses went into overdrive. He could hear everything clearly, to the point it almost deafened him. The conversations of passerbys, traffic noises, the music from not only the passing cars but from the bars and cafes as well. His vision was being assaulted from all sides, the bright flashing lights from store fronts and street lights sent out shadows and false images in the faded daylight. A man reaching for his wallet or was it a gun. Another brushed passed wearing ear phones, was he listening to music or was it something more sinister. Even his sense of smell had been triggered, pollution from the car exhausts, mingled with the smells of cooking food in the restaurants. The variety of sensations made him feel nauseous.

A mere second of hyper vigilence, and his survival instincts activated, forcing him to take back control. His brain started dismissing everything that wasn't a threat allowing him to concentrate on everything that was. All other thoughts were banished to the back of his mind.

A woman screamed, she was standing directly in front of Larry. Her husband made a move with his arms and then he was floored. Acting purely on instinct Michael had delivered a stunning blow to the man's throat.

Larry had drawn his gun as soon as he realized they were being surrounded. Then a woman walking towards them had spotted his gun and screamed. Larry pulled her across the front of him as a shield while Michael knocked her husband to the ground. It was a this moment Callaghan saw his carefully planned ambush fail. Panicked civilians ran across the path of his agents who were trying to reach the two men. Both Michael and Larry had backed into a small boutique, Larry still with his hostage, Michael with a gun in each hand.

Having managed to get passed the fleeing crowds, the agents closed in, only staying back because of the guns pointing there way. Neither side willing to be the one to start a gunfight on a crowded street.

"FBI, Put your guns down!"

"You are under arrest, there is no escape. Give up now."

"Let the woman go."

There was shouts coming at them from all directions and they ignored all of them. Reaching the back of the shop, Michael kicked the door open and Larry let go of his hostage pushing her into the path of the trailing agents.

Out into an alleyway the two men sprinted along the unlit path shedding their jackets. They came out onto another busy street, their guns hidden under their shirts. They kept moving, dodging in and out of the variety stores and bars. FBI agents were flooding the nearby streets, still trying to keep their actions low key not wanting to cause any more panic than had already happened. But both Larry and Michael were experienced in evading capture and were already gone.

.

When Fiona and Sam had been delivered to Callaghan's base of operations, he made it clear to them they were being allowed to stay only if they stayed out of the way. He had a carefully arranged ambush in place. Larry and Michael would be stopped, surrounded and given no opportunity to resist arrest. Sam and Fiona had tried to point out that both men were trained to recognize a tail and were far to experienced to walk into an ambush whoever had planned it. Callaghan had dismissed their claims, his people were experienced nothing would go wrong, he confidently announced and to make sure they didn't interfere he had them held under guard in his car.

Fiona watched the crowd fleeing along Biscayne Boulevard, and knew instantly Callaghan's brilliant scheme had failed just as they told him it would. She turned towards Sam when the car door was thrown open and they were ordered out. Callaghan's face was beet red, his eyes looked ready to pop out of his skull. He glared at the pair of them for a moment before speaking, trying to regain control of his emotions.

"They've got away. I've men out scouring the whole area." He paused, turning away as more news came through his head set. He looked sick, his shoulders slumped and a hand came up to his head. Then he turned back to Sam and Fiona, his expression full of anger, it was possible to see a vein in his temple throbbing.

"The house in Fort Lauderdale. I sent a team up there, it had been wired with explosives I have three dead agents and five more wounded." He paced back and forth, trying to think of some reason for arresting the pair of them. Nothing came to mind. "Go back home, if I catch you round here in five minutes time I'll have you arrested for interfering in a federal investigation."

"Fi, let's get out of here." Sam pulled Fiona away from the FBI team, if the man in charge was looking for an excuse to arrest them, Fiona with her illegal status and criminal record would be an easy target.

"We've lost him Sam." She muttered as they cleared the FBI cordon.

Sam nodded, but didn't speak just kept a grip on her arm pulling her away so they could get a taxi back to Madeline's and he would get the two women somewhere safe, while he tried to salvage some sort of a deal with Jack Faye.

They still wanted the NOC list. The extraction hadn't been his fault, it had been Callaghan and the tac team underestimating Michael and Larry's level of expertise.

.

They found a car as quickly as possible, escaping the area before it could be sealed. With Larry driving they headed North. Once they were clear of the city, both men relaxed slightly, the few police cars they saw were all heading into the city with their sirens on.

Michael was doing his best to keep control. _She must really hate him now if she called the FBI_. The thought kept going round in his head, he had driven her away. He could hardly complain that she wanted nothing more to do with him. He had nothing now, nothing at all he felt a big hollow void in his chest.

He had ruined everything. He had put his family in danger, his mother probably now faced weeks of questioning and probably surveillence too. Sam would be lucky to come out of the whole thing with his pension and military record intact and Fiona, no he couldn't think about Fiona.

What did he have now? He looked across at Larry's self satisfied smirking profile. He had hate, he had revenge and he had a new found desire to obliterate all those who had ruined his life.

"Pull over!" Michael shouted, and when Larry ignored him. "Pull the hell over now, or I swear to god I'll put you down now!" He shoved his gun into Larry's side, cocking the weapon.

Larry stopped the car and they both jumped out of the vehicle. "What the hell kid? We've no time for this!" Larry snarled.

"What happened back there?" Michael shouted back, the gun in his hand waving about dangerously.

"I don't know kid, but if it wasn't for me we'd of been having this conversation from behind bars. Now get the hell back in the car, or shoot me."

Michael brought the gun up aiming straight at Larry's head. Michael's face was expressionless his eyes cold and steely.

"You think I won't end you? I've lost everything!" He shouted the last words.

"No." Larry had his hands up but he was sidling closer to Michael as he spoke. He could see the desperation on the others face, he knew he had to talk the younger man down.

"You can have whatever you want now. You're free. No more ties. You want to give yourself up? Do it. I'm sure you'll get a fair trial." He sneered the last words out they both knew there would be no trial. They knew too much. "Just think about it for a moment, all those people who ruined your life, there is nothing holding you back now."

He was directly in front of Michael now, they stood eye to eye. "Kill me and you really will be alone. You need my help with this, my contacts and my ordinance, together Michael we take the whole organization apart."

Michael blinked, his hand dropped slightly, Larry began to smile. "Full partners." Michael stated. "I want to know exactly what deals you are making, because you aren't about to help me without some profit in it."

"Deal." Larry agreed without hesitation.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter twenty one,

Larry was back behind the wheel of the car, driving North towards his weapons cache. He had a smile on his face and a song in his heart. It had been a long time coming, but he finally got exactly what he wanted. It had taken three attempts to make Michael realize he was wasting his time with the bunch of losers he called friends. But now the kid had finally come to his senses and they could set about earning money and causing havoc. He glanced across at his passenger seeing the old Michael Westen, the one that had worked so well with him for three years. The only partner he ever worked with who didn't whine about straying away from correct procedure, or back down from doing whatever was necessary to get the job done.

He was off the main road now and on to the side roads that led to the small industrial site where he rented a secure unit. Eventually they arrived at a set of tall metal gates. Michael jumped out and unlocked the gates, swinging them open, and then continuing on foot to unlock the roll door that allowed entrance to the unit itself. Inside, a dark blue SUV stood waiting. After his disappointing meeting with his computer guy Larry had come here and loaded up the trunk of his newly purchased vehicle with all his guns, ammunition and C4. Later on he had returned with his lap top and all the paperwork including Michael's new ID from the house. Whatever happened Larry was ready to move on.

"Ok let's have your phone." Larry held out his hand. He noticed Michael hesitate, he understood, it was hard to trust when your so called friends had let you down so badly.

"I know you called Fiona on it, and I know that you took my transmitter out before you spoke to her." He smiled as he spoke. "Whatever you said certainly made a big impression though, if the first thing she did was tell the Feds where to find you. Diplomacy never was your strong point, was it kid?"

Michael handed the phone over a little warily. "So what are you going to do?"

_When you spend a life time doing bad things for good reasons the line between good and bad can become blurred and until a situation occurs you can never tell how far over that line you're willing to go._

"Switch it on and leave it here. They've run one trace off it, I want to see if they try another." It had been mentioned on the radio about a house exploding in Fort Lauderdale. The news report said it was a faulty gas main, but they knew better. "It'll be interesting to find out exactly how special, special agents really are." It was then that Michael noticed the C4 set up round the doors on trembler switches, just waiting for the final connections to be made to the triggers.

"You plan on luring them here?" He queried.

"Damn right, kid. Let's go." Another test, Michael Westen the boy scout would pout and argue.

Michael looked around, biting his lip. He hesitated for a moment and then nodded. He wasn't one of the good guys any more, and it would do him no good to keep pretending otherwise.

He drove the SUV out onto the street while Larry finished wiring up his bomb. Then once all the doors were shut, he slid over into the passenger seat and let Larry drive.

"So which direction do you want to take?" Larry asked, the test had been passed with flying colours.

"I'm guessing most of the people on that list are going to be up near DC so let's go North."

"Ok, DC it is." Larry pulled out onto the 1- 95.

…

After being dismissed by Callaghan, Sam and Fiona went looking for a taxi ride back to where they had been forced to leave Madeline's car. The journey was taken in silence, the taxi driver quickly getting the message his clients were not in the mood for small talk. All the way Sam kept glancing over at Fiona. He knew they had different ways of dealing with problems. He liked to talk the whole thing through, bounce ideas around and come to a decision after looking at all the possibilities. He liked a strategy that led to everyone coming home in one piece. Whereas Fiona tended to go with the first violent and explosive solution she came up with, which then normally involved Michael talking her out off, or at least containing the amount of damage done. He took another look at her cold almost frozen expression, dreading the thought of trying to control the storm that was about to break.

They still had not spoken when they changed cars. Half way back to Madeline's Sam couldn't take any more, and pulled over. One thing he was sure on was they needed to present a united front when they explained what had happened to Michael's Mother. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, she turned slightly in her seat to face him.

"What do we tell Maddy? I mean -" He began awkwardly.

"You tell her whatever you want." She surprised him with the bluntness of her words. "I'm done trying to work with that bastard Callaghan, he's going to get Michael killed. I'm going to find him on my own."

Sam sighed, he admired her bravado, however. "How are you going to find him?" He asked.

Michael was on the run now. To stand a chance they needed the extra manpower, the technology to monitor traffic cameras and run traces on credit cards or phone lines, not to mention the intelligence sources that would allow them to take best guesses at where the fugitives would be heading. None of this was possible without FBI involvement.

Fiona had other ideas. "Larry blew up a house, he had to get the explosives from somewhere, that's something I can trace. Probably better than the Feds can." She pointed out. Then she made another point. "If we had gone to that restaurant like Michael wanted, none of this would have happened. Larry would be dead and Michael would be safe with us."

Sam sat still, both hands gripping the steering wheel his head hanging down, as he thought about what she had said, he hated it when Fiona seemed to come up with a workable idea. It was a sure sign that things were going badly.

"Ok." He answered carefully. "But we still need to tell Maddy something."

Fiona had been doing a lot of thinking during the taxi ride. She shook her head. "We can't go back, the Feds are watching the house. We can't call her because they'll have tapped the phone by now. I'm sure by the morning Callaghan will have filled her in on all the details. She'll understand we've not abandoned her, she'll cope." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, as much as him.

Sam nodded slowly. "They'll come at her hard, it'll look like we knew where he was all along and have gone to join up with him and Larry."

"So you want to carry on trying to make deals with these people?" She asked, anger creeping into her voice.

"No Fi, I don't. I'm just pointing out, how Callaghan is going to take it and what it's going to do to Madeline."

"Maybe you should stay here with her and I'll go and find Michael." She offered.

There was no way Sam was going to let Fiona go off on her own. Yet he didn't want to leave Madeline without so much as a word, she had been through so much the last few days. "No." He said. "I'm coming with you but before we disappear I want to get a message to Ms Reynolds, she might not want anything to do with me any more but she can get into see Madeline and let her know we've not abandoned her."

Fiona nodded her agreement it was acceptable, she wanted to get out to the house in Fort Lauderdale as quickly as possible, get a sample of the explosive used and then start tracking down the supplier.

….

Michael had fallen asleep in the car, he woke up when he felt the vehicle slow and heard the crunch of gravel under the wheels, telling him they were turning off the road. Opening his eyes, he stared at the neon vacancies sign flashing under a board announcing rooms for let. Sitting up he looked with distaste at the two storey crumbling building.

"I'm tired and you're not driving until I'm convinced that your concussion has gone." Larry switched off the engine. "Besides we're ten miles off the interstate and I've not seen another car the whole way here, so it should be safe."

Michael didn't bother with a reply, he waited in the car while Larry booked in, coming out of the office with a key for an upstairs room. The place looked as bad inside as it did from the outside. But both had slept in worse, and after locking the door and checking out for possible escape exits in case it became necessary to leave in a hurry, they settled down on the twin beds.

While Larry fell asleep instantly, Michael lay back on his bed arm flung over his eyes trying to get back to sleep. After an hour unable to settle, he got up. Quietly unlocking the door he went out on to the landing. He stood leaning against the railing looking out across the dimly lit road. He was doing his best to focus on the present, to leave the past behind. But when he had laid down on that bed and shut his eyes Fiona's image had been waiting for him, looking as she did the last time he saw her. And in the back of his mind barely more than a whisper he could hear Sam warning him against what he was planning to do. He ran his fingers through his hair and thought about checking if the room stocked a mini bar. It was at that moment he caught sight of a row of car headlights flickering in the distance, but definitely coming towards the motel. Doing a quick count, he dashed back into the room shaking Larry awake.

"Six cars coming this way."

It was all Larry had to hear. It took a matter of minutes for them to get to the SUV and drive off sending gravel spraying out from under the tyres.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty two,

.

The call to Ms Reynolds went better than he could have hoped for, his ex lady friend had agreed to call in and see Madeline and explain to her that her Son's friends were off trying to find him. She would have an excuse ready for the late night visit if she was stopped by the men who were watching the house. But for this she was going to require something in return, she wasn't quite sure what yet. But he was going to owe her a very, very big favour.

At the end of the call he turned and found Fiona smiling at him. "Very enchanting Sam." She murmured, then she gave a short laugh at the blush that crept up his face.

"Less of that Missy." He started the engine on Madeline's car. "Let's get up to Larry's place."

…..

_Spies hide guns like squirrels hide acorns. You never know when you'll need some firepower, or where you'll be when you need it. But careful spies also hide money, because some problems can't be solved by firepower alone._

"Six cars!" Larry was having a hard time believing they had been found so quickly. He had been careful, he Larry Sizemore Garber did not make rookie mistakes that got your cover blown. What had he missed? Once clear of the immediate area, he drove back in a large circle, stopping on a patch of raised ground he pulled a night scope from the trunk of the car and took a look at what was happening at the motel.

"They're searching the whole damn place." He growled, watching the agents break into the room they had vacated less than ten minutes earlier. He handed the scope to Michael so he could take a look. "How the hell did they find us so quickly?" He paced back and forth.

Michael watched the owner or night clerk or whoever he was hand over a stack of what looked like credit receipts and a card reader.

"How did you pay for the room?" He asked, watching the machine being dropped into an evidence bag.

"Credit card." Larry answered shortly, stopping his pacing realizing what Michael's question meant. He snatched the scope back. "Son of a bitch, how did they know about that." The card was an old favourite, the identity was one he had used for years. There was a full back story attached to that particular cover, it had never been flagged, hell he had used it for international flights.

" I think you've been blown Larry." Michael told him, his voice low. A part of him was pleased at this turn of events, he blamed Larry for the situation he had been forced into as much as Brennan and Vaughn. The only difference being, he needed Larry at the moment. "Welcome to my world." It was lucky it was dark, and Larry couldn't see the smirk on Michael's face.

"You think this is funny?" He snarled, he had a knife in his hand now, Michael had forgotten how good Larry's eyesight was. "I'm going to lose millions if they've frozen my accounts." He tapped the blade rapidly against his leg. "I have to find out what they've got. Let's go." The knife disappeared back into the sheath on his belt, and he got back into the car.

"You know as soon as you start checking those accounts they'll be on to you, don't you?" Michael commented, as he slid into the passenger seat.

Slamming the car into gear, Larry drove down on to the road taking a roundabout route back towards the 95.

"If all my accounts are compromised we're going to have no money, and no money is going to put a crimp in your plans Michael." He looked across at his partner, really disliking the small grin he was seeing.

"We can always get money Larry, you know that." Michael replied calmly. He wondered if he had worn the same almost panicked expression when he had discovered he had lost all his money and credit.

"This is your fault." Larry glared at him, for a second Michael's blood ran cold and he started to tense. "They must have had us on camera somewhere, probably a traffic cam and some over achieving intelligence analyst ran the image through facial recognition software." He slammed his hands onto the steering wheel. "I'm going to find out who it was and pay them a very special visit. Mark my words on this Michael, nobody steals off me."

They crossed over the interstate and entered Daytona, the first thing Larry did was find a ATM, he sat in the car scowling out through the window as Michael, hiding his face as much as possible drew out as much money as he could from the account that Larry had set up for him. Next they headed over to the nearby IRS building, the plan to get in there and access one of the computers to get names and addresses off the thumb drive.

…..

_Every bombmaker, like a chef has a signature recipe, if you have the expertise you can recognize the cook by the chemicals used and the blast pattern achieved. Fiona has that skill and also an almost encyclopedic knowledge of all the local specialists. _

Larry's four bedroom, luxury detached house with a double garage and a large sweeping driveway, was a pile a rumble. There was hardly one brick left on top of another, and the police incident tape stretched out as far as the neighbouring houses on each side. When Fiona and Sam arrived at the scene the fire inspector had done his preliminary report and the forensic team were finishing off. While Fiona waited hidden by the neighbours bushes for the chance to get her samples, she checked out the scene. As much as she hated Larry, she had to admit as she surveyed the scene he certainly knew how to blow stuff up. On a purely professional level she admired his work, however this was no bomb designed to make a statement it had been set to kill and maim as many people as possible. She became more alert as several radios crackled at once. Ducking down lower she watched as most of those present headed for their cars. Something else had happened, she stayed low as cars peeled away at speed, leaving just a few men to guard the site.

Sam had parked well back from the scene, after Fiona had got out and disappeared through the neighbouring gardens, he got out his phone. He sat staring at it for a minute, if Fiona found out she would kill him. But he knew what he was about to do was the right thing. Callaghan was an ass, and had acted rashly, but without FBI involvement there would be no hope for Michael. Especially with what had happened now, they would be out for blood. With a final check that Fiona was not on her way back, Sam dialled up his old team leader.

It was close to midnight, but with three dead agents and five more wounded Sam knew Jack Faye would still be in his office.

"Jack." Sam began as soon as his call was answered. "It's Sam, just hear me out before you let loose." He could hear the sharp in take off breath at the other end of the phone.

"Where the hell are you?" Came the angry reply.

"Er, I'd like to leave that for now Jack, besides I know you, you've already started a trace. We had to split from your man Jack. He wouldn't listen to us at all, it was his plan that went wrong, we tried to tell him it wouldn't work. You've worked with Larry in the past, when have you ever known him to walk into an ambush. It was lucky nobody was killed."

"My men are dead, three at the moment, another is critical and if I remember correctly Sam your friend Westen has a liking for explosives. Are you with him now?"

"No, we're trying to find him. Look you still want that NOC list, I guarantee Mikey didn't do this. Let me try and get to him and end all this peacefully."

There was silence for a while, as Faye gave the matter some thought. "You keep that phone switched on so I know where you are. You find him, he gives himself up along with that list and there maybe a deal depending on the evidence. Oh and if Ms Glenanne comes up with anything from the samples I guess she's picking up from Sizemore's you had best let me know immediately. Bye for now." The phone went dead. Pursing his lips Sam decided it was the best he could have hoped for, they just needed to find Michael before Larry had him do anything stupid.

Having got her samples, Fiona directed Sam over to a rundown neighbourhood on the edge of the city. It was the early hours of the morning but her contact had a lifestyle that kept him up most nights. Sam looked with shock at the outside of a near derelict building. "He works from here?" He queried. Fiona didn't reply but moved a piece of board away from a doorway and then picked her way across a rubble covered floor to another door. Sam noticed though it looked like rotten wood, up close it was a steel plated and there was a very cleverly hidden security camera watching them. There was a click and Fiona pushed the door open, they stepped into a laboratory that any university or hospital would have been proud to own.

"Albert." Fiona smiled and gave a short dumpy looking man a hug. "Sam this is my friend Albert, Albert this is Sam you can trust him."

"So what have you brought me at this ungodly hour, my girl." Albert had a very slight Irish accent, he took the test tubes she gave him and went over to one of his desks.

"The house that went up in Fort Lauderdale, I know who did it, I want to know who supplied him."

Albert pulled on a set of gloves and started laying out the equipment he needed. " Uh huh, what did you learn from the site?"

"Lots of small devices, set up to cause maximum damage when a breach was made. Plus something bigger near the centre to destroy what was left. Very high grade by the amount of damage done."

"Give me a couple of hours and I'll have a couple of names for you." He didn't even look up from where he was working.

…..

If Larry had been present, he would have been very disappointed. Nobody went near his lock up, until the bomb squad arrived. His devices were disarmed, but unfortunately for the FBI the only fresh evidence they retrieved was Michael's phone.

The agent in charge put a call through to Callaghan, letting him know that a second device had been found and successfully disarmed and they had also recovered Westen's phone.

Callaghan, stood in the motel room so recently vacated by Westen and Sizemore. One of the beds was still warm, one must have slept while the other stood guard. Another sign they were working together, Westen was not an unwilling accomplice. He put a call through to his headquarters, he wanted roadblocks set up, they were heading North if they got out of Florida they would be harder to track. Hopefully a roadblock would catch them, if not it would force them back South. With the ports on high alert, the plan was to leave them no where to run while piling on as much pressure as they could. Being able to freeze Sizemore's accounts had definitely given them an edge. Seven different identities had been found so far, the man was a multi millionaire and the financial experts trying to go through his accounts believed there was more to find.

…..

Sam paid cash for a room in a small hotel, it was going to take a while to get the information they needed and both of them were in dire need of a rest. He settled himself down on the sofa, leaning his head back and shut his eyes. As he fell asleep he could hear fiona moving about, still to wound up to rest. He was woken by the sun shining into the room, as he sat upright he caught sight of a piece of paper fluttering to the floor.

Gone to see Albert.

Sam read the note, blunt and to the point. Screwing up the paper he dropped it in the bin. There was nothing to do until Fiona got back, so he went to have a shower and then when she had still not returned went down to the restaurant for some breakfast. As he finished his second cup of coffee he saw Fiona striding across the room. She had changed her clothes and taken a shower her hair was still wet, tied up in a loose bun. As she sat down, Sam lent across and pulled a price sticker off her new pale pink T shirt.

"Been shopping Fi?"

She took the last couple of bites of his fried egg and bacon roll, and poured herself a glass of fresh orange before handing him a sheet of paper from her bag.

"Albert came up with two names, this one." She tapped the piece of paper. "Is out of the country, he took up a job offer in South America."

Sam studied the second name and address on the list. He pushed his chair back. "Ok, lets get movin' sister."

With one final sip of orange juice, Fiona followed him out to the street, and then pointed out where she had left the car.

...

A/N: I've had a rough day today with my back, and have been stuck either sitting or lying down all day. Which has meant I've done a lot of typing. This is half of what I've managed today, the second part should be out very shortly. I couldn't edit it properly all in one go, thats why it's been split. Sorry for any errors, but not sure how long my back is going to play up, and didn't want to leave the story for any length of time. If anything is really off please let me know and I'll make a point of checking I don't make the same mistake again. Any how I'm posting this part and then just checking the second part. Thank you for reading Purdy p.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: This chapter gets very intense towards the end.

.

Chapter twenty three,

They parked up outside a nice suburban home, in a fairly affluent part of town. There was nothing to show that the house owner was involved in anything more exciting than filing his next tax return. They watched as two teenagers came out of the front door, heading down the street, probably on their way to school. Seeing no more movement they went and knocked on the front door. A woman in her thirties answered the door, still in her night clothes, her hair a mess, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. Before she could utter a word, Fiona pushed her back into the hall. Not wanting to watch Fiona's interrogation techniques, Sam set about searching the house, he could hear shouting and sobbing and then the sound of a hard slap.

"Sam!" He stopped what he was doing and went back into the hall. The woman stood against the wall, tears running down her face and holding a hand up to her red swollen cheek. Fiona gave the woman a hard shove. "Tell him what you just told me!" She ordered. Sam lent against the wall, with Fiona on the other side the woman was blocked in. She looked from one the other, sniffed and wiped her hand over her eyes.

"Dennis took a job, ten bricks of high grade C4. It was for an old guy." She looked at Sam. "Older than you, tall in good shape for his age. Had a really nice smile, and paid in cash." Fiona gave her another shove, her eyes narrowed.

"Tell him the rest." She snapped.

"That was last week, then yesterday another man turned up. He was younger, short hair, slim wearing a really nice suit. He came into Den's workshop, asked him a lot of questions. I was by the door I didn't hear what they said and he didn't see me. But I saw him stab Den, and then he just sat there and watched him bleed out. I ran away, I thought he'd kill me. I haven't even called the police, I – I got one of Dennis's friends to come and you know to take his body." She stopped talking.

"Sam?" Fiona threw him a stricken look, he could tell why she sounded so worried. Pulling out his wallet he opened it up and searched through one of the compartments finding what he was looking for, an old photo of Michael, Fi and himself at the beach.

"That the younger guy?" He showed the woman the photo. She looked at it and then to Sam's relief shook her head.

"No." Her voice barely above a whisper.

Fiona relaxed back against the wall, maybe this had nothing to do with Michael. May be it was a random unsatisfied customer.

"What about the older guy, he say anything about what he's up to, where he's going?" Sam asked.

She shook her head, her hands over her face. She vowed at that moment when the kids got back from school they were going to stay at her mothers. She would put the house up for sale and never come back.

Back in the car Fiona sighed. "We're no closer than before are we?"

Sam rested his hands on the steering wheel. "I have a friend in the FBI, no not Callaghan." He added, still not being entirely honest with her. "Let me see what I can get off him. But I think we should head back to Madeline's, there is no telling how long this is going to take."

...

It was a long, boring and uncomfortable wait for the first arrivals at the IRS building. Larry continued to rant about the loss of all his money, the constant drone making Michael wonder if he had sounded so irritating when it had happened to him. He did remember if it hadn't been for Sam's support and help he would have struggled far more than he had done. Shutting his eyes he attempted to sleep as Larry started to list all the people he blamed for the loss of his money and what he intended to do to them when he got hold of them.

It felt like he had only just dropped off to sleep when he felt Larry nudge his arm, the first of the employee's were turning up at the doors.

"Time to go to work Michael." Larry's smile was back in place, he was screwing a silencer onto his handgun, while watching the steady stream of office workers head towards their desks.

"So what's the plan here?" He asked, eyeing the gun.

Larry noticed the look. "I thought you were over the boy scout mentality, we need names to make some money and this is the best place to get them."

"I am, but I still want to know what the plan is, I'm not just walking in there and opening fire."

"It's a precaution, that's all. I thought we'd grab a couple of the stragglers take their badges and we're inside."

Michael nodded, it wasn't as tidy as he would like but it would do at a pinch. He pulled out his own gun checking it was loaded, he knew it was ready to fire but it was an ingrained habit.

…..

Madeline stared at Sam and Fiona as they let themselves in through her front door. She looked passed them hoping to see Michael following them in, the disappointment clear on her face.

"Sorry Maddy we couldn't find him. I've got somebody trying to dig up some fresh leads for us." He sat down heavily.

"That agent Callaghan called here last night." She took a long draw on her cigarette. "He told me Michael threatened to shoot the men he sent to arrest him, and that he had set a bomb that killed some FBI agents." Her hand shook slightly.

Fiona moved to stand in front of her, resting her hands on the older woman's shoulders. "Madeline, Michael doesn't know the whole situation. He ran away when they tried to arrest him that's all." She added a comforting smile.

"And the bomb?" Madeline asked. Since his last arrest and disappearance she had seen and learnt more about her son's life than she was comfortable with.

"Michael wouldn't do that." Fiona spoke firmly.

"But it was at the house where he had been staying, he must have known." She pushed.

"We don't know that Maddy." Sam put in. "But I do know Mike and I don't think it's something he would do."

She moved away from Fiona and stubbed out her cigarette, moving on into the kitchen she started to make a fresh pot of coffee.

"So what's the plan now?" She asked.

"We wait, there's not much else we can do."

Silence settled over the room, all too busy with their own thoughts. Each one of them knew that the chances of finding Michael were slipping away.

…..

They had got the security badges they needed, the rightful owners left unconscious but still alive much to Larry's disapproval. Walking confidently across the foyer they went up in the elevator, getting out on the first floor the doors opened on to. Walking along the corridors they looked for an empty office. Eventually coming to one they went inside, while Larry worked on bringing up the names on the thumb drive and photographing the details with his phone. Michael kept watch on the door.

"Larry, we should go. Hurry up." More people were turning up for work, it wouldn't be long until they were spotted.

"Finished." Larry was at his side. " Four names all in Miami. Let's go find some one to kill."

They made their way out. "Your mood's brightened." Michael commented.

"You were right. We can always make more money and we've just got the details to make that happen. I've one call to make, sort out the finances then you can get back to work. I tell you I'm looking forward to it, no long distance kills though."

Michael didn't reply to this, as they reached the car he was surprised when Larry threw him the keys. "You're trusting me behind the wheel?"

"You're feeling better aren't you?"

"Sure I'm fine." Flashing a smile he got behind the wheel and they took off back towards Miami.

…..

It took five hours to get back to Miami, and by the time they found a place to stay Michael was exhausted. He barely made up to the room in the quiet out of the way hotel and as soon as he reached the bed he collapsed. Larry looked him over making sure he was out cold, then went out onto the balcony and got out his phone. Sitting on a chair he looked out onto an empty pool and in the distance, between two other buildings he could make out the sea, large waves breaking onto the beach. His call was answered.

"Larry. What can I do for you?"

"Have you heard what happened?" Larry snapped.

"Yes, you were careless, I understand it started with DNA and fingerprints. I thought you were a professional. Anyway how's our boy doing?"

"His head's on straight now. Just needs to get back into the swing of things. I've four names all local. I want the money for them paid into an off shore numbered account."

"About that. I want my property back now."

"What!" Larry was on his feet, his face flushed with anger.

"It's not difficult to understand. The contract was for you to get me the NOC list, and convince Michael that he was wasting his time and talent, in return I paid you a large sum of money."

"That money is gone, it's in an account that is frozen, I need to earn more. You want that NOC list we need to renegotiate."

The line went silent for a moment. "Meet me tonight, Hotel Oro nine pm. Come alone I don't want Michael to know I'm involved yet."

"Fine." Larry sat back down. "Nine o clock." He hung up. Then looked around, he had to find somewhere to hide that thumb drive before he went to that meeting. He hadn't expected him to be in Miami, how had he managed that so quickly.

…..

Michael woke up and struggled to his feet, barely making it into the bathroom before he threw up. He came back out, wiping a flannel around his face and neck, Larry was sat on the balcony staring out over the pool.

"So what's happening?" He asked his voice hoarse, he turned back to the fridge in the corner of the room getting himself a bottle of water.

"I have a meeting at nine, alone. So you stay here and rest up. I thought you said you were better?" Michael thought he sounded distracted.

"I am, for the most part. Whose this meeting with?" Michael pushed for more information.

"Some one who values their privacy Michael."

"You should take me with you, your face is out there now. If you get recognized you'll be on your own."

Larry thought it over, the kid had a point. "Ok, but you stay outside. If our benefactor sees you the whole deal will be off."

Michael smiled, he wanted to know who was paying the bills, if Larry wouldn't tell him, he would have to find out for himself.

By eight thirty they were ready to go, as they entered the reception a police officer came through the entrance. Michael slid out of sight behind a marble pillar, Larry continued towards the doors and the parking lot. After speaking to the receptionist the police officer walked back towards the doors and Michael followed him out.

Larry was already at the car, he turned and called out, but Michael couldn't make out the words clearly. He wondered what Larry was doing, as he started to walk away from the vehicle.

Michael was on the floor, pain ripping through his chest, he couldn't breathe his chest felt like it was on fire. He could taste concrete dust and acrid smoke from the fire he could just make out through the haze of floating ash. Panic set in when he couldn't fill his lungs, he wrapped his arms round his chest trying to support his ribs. Another try at breathing and he almost passed out as his throat seemed to suddenly fill, a bitter copper taste pervaded his mouth and then he coughed spraying blood on to the ground before him. As he stared at the crimson pattern he finally managed to suck in some air. He coughed again, this time the pain made him curl into a ball and a fresh agony assaulted him, coming from his leg. Letting one hand drop from his torso, his fingers carefully searched for the source of this new agony. He felt a sharp piece of either metal or glass sticking out of his thigh. He coughed again and more blood appeared on the ground. The smoke was clearing now and he spied the burnt out wreck that at one point had been a car. The car had exploded, he had been walking towards it when, he remembered then. When Larry had begun to walk away.

He could hear sirens now, and the cries of other people who had been caught in the blast. He couldn't be caught here, he had to make himself move. Another harsh racking cough and more blood, this was bad, he whimpered as he forced himself to stand, putting weight through his injured leg. He had to get away, he fell against a car and tried for another sobbing breath, a hand reached out to help him and he pushed it away. When he tried to speak he coughed but it sounded more like a wheeze, he was sure he was nearing the end, his vision was failing. He attempted to walk and fell to the ground, this time when he felt a hand checking for a pulse and then for other injuries he lay still, struggling just to take short shallow breaths .


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter twenty four,

Larry walked out of the hotel, into the cooling evening air, he paused to look around, seeing nothing to cause concern he walked swiftly over to the parking lot. Reaching the SUV he went to open the door when something caught his eye. He froze in place, staring at the thin wire sticking out from underneath the vehicle. Looking up, he saw Michael walk out of the hotel following behind the police officer, picking up his pace slightly as the man got into his waiting patrol car.

Carefully letting go of the handle Larry started to move away from the car as quickly as he could, shouting back to Michael. "Leave the car, let's walk."

He made it as far as a low wall that surrounded the perimeter of the hotel grounds when a loud bang sounded and a rush of burning hot air hit him in the back knocking him to the ground. He lay still for a moment, then got to his feet staggering slightly, and shaking his head to try and clear the ringing in his ears. Looking back across the parking lot he could see that Michael, who had been walking towards the car had taken quite a hit from the blast. The younger man was lying on the ground barely moving. That quick look was all Larry allowed himself before walking away as rapidly as he could manage.

He walked away as fast as he could, pushing passed the people who were now running towards the scene. When he reached the beach he found a quiet spot at the back of a bar, to sit and catch his breath and get a drink of water. He wondered if Michael had survived the blast, he hadn't looked to good. It was a shame, he had been looking forward to getting the old partnership back in business. He could actually do with the kid's help with what was coming, this was an act of war as far as he was concerned.

Getting his phone out he dialled the number of an associate with a gun smuggling business, he had to get out of Miami fast and regroup. He needed to earn some money, put a team together and then come back and collect the thumb drive from where he had hidden it. Finishing the call he smiled and sat back, by midnight he would be on his way to Barbados and then onto South America. There was a couple of nice little wars going on down there, somebody would take up his offer of assistance.

…...

Fiona paced across the waiting room floor, every time she heard footsteps or a door being opened or shut she stopped, waited a moment, listened intently then continued with her circuit round the room. Madeline watched her from her seat, her fingers twitching, desperate for a cigarette but not prepared to leave the room to satisfy the desire for nicotine.

"Sam'll be back soon honey, why don't you take a seat." Madeline's voice sounded loud in the small room. Fiona shot her a look and continued to pace.

Four days ago Callaghan had turned up at Madeline's front door to inform them Michael was in hospital. Four days where they took turns staying in his room as he lay in intensive care attached to a ventilator. An operation on his leg had removed a large piece of glass from his thigh which had clipped his femoral artery, it was lucky they said he had not tried to remove the object or he could have bled to death at the scene. He had also developed a large contusion on his lungs, caused by the bomb blast, which had compromised his ability to oxygenate his blood properly.

It had been four days of only being allowed into his room under FBI escort, and having their every move watched and every word noted down. Madeline had been furious that Callaghan had not told them of Michael's injuries until the morning after it had happened. But that anger had only lasted until she had seen her son's bruised and battered body lying helplessly in a hospital bed with a tube coming out of his mouth, and then she forgot about everything else.

Fiona had been silent that morning, she had gone straight to Michael's side gently squeezing his hand while her eyes took stock of all the injuries he had suffered. She had listened without comment to the Agent standing guard telling Sam that a man matching Larry's description had been seen walking away from the car just before it exploded. Later on, after Madeline had gone to bed, Sam had to stop her running out to hunt Larry down.

Today though, they had been escorted up to the floor where Michael was being held as usual, but instead of being allowed to go straight in to sit with him they had been directed into this side room. Ten minutes later one of Callaghan's lackeys had come in and with no explanation, taken Sam away. So now Fiona paced while Madeline continued to deny her craving for a cigarette and both of them worried about what had happened.

...

Sam followed the agent along the corridor and into another side room, inside Callaghan sat behind an empty desk, he pointed to a chair for Sam to take a seat.

"Has something happened?" Sam snapped, sitting down but leaning forward. Michael had seemed to be getting better.

"Yes." Callaghan answered. "They took Westen off the ventilator this morning and woke him up."

Sam sighed and relaxed, this was good news. "So why all the secrecy? You know how worried we've all been?"

"As soon as he was able to understand the situation he was formally arrested. We have a lot of questions for him and those questions from now on take priority over visitors." Callaghan stated firmly.

"You're stopping us from seeing him?" He hoped Callaghan didn't want him to break that news to Madeline and Fiona.

"No, apparently you managed to convince my boss you can get Westen to turn over the NOC list and co-operate with the investigation. So for now he keeps his visitor priviledges, however there are rules."

…...

Michael was propped up in his bed, an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose. He looked tired, his chest rising and falling in short shallow breaths. Hearing the door open, he opened his eyes and managed a slight smile. Sam slapped on a big grin and strode into the room.

"How are doing buddy?" Sam came over to the bed, grimacing when he heard the clink of the handcuffs that secured Michael to the bed.

Michael saw the look and sighed. "They think I might runaway. How are Fi and my mom?" His voice was weak and muffled by the mask, Sam took a chair next to the bed to be closer so he could catch the words.

"Worried about you brother." Up close he could see, Michael's lips were still slightly blue and there were dark smudges under his eyes.

"Fi, they leaving her alone?"

"Yeah it's all good, they're leaving us all alone as long as we stay where they can see us. Oh Jesse has been reinstated he's up in DC helping out the investigation into Vaughn and Barrett." Michael managed a small smile at this.

"So why are they leaving you alone. I thought Fi would have been arrested and you'd be out on your ear for working with me?"

"An old friend of mine is the local director of operations here in Miami. They're willing to make a deal with you, they want the NOC list which you were going to hand over anyway and your help going through your burn notice dossier identifying which cases were really yours and which were Vaughn's operations."

Michael's eyes were shut, Sam thought for a moment he had fallen asleep. Then he opened them and scowled when he tried to bring a hand up but was stopped by the piece of metal around his wrist. "I'll think about it. What's happened to Larry?"

Before Sam could answer the agent who had stood quietly in the corner stepped forward. "Sir don't answer that." He ordered. Sam turned towards the agent. "Mr Westen is not to be given any information about how the investigation is progressing."

Sam looked from Michael to the agent and then back again. "Mikey you look tired, I'm going to let you rest up now. It's a good deal you shouldn't have to think too hard about it."

He got to his feet, his friend already looked to have fallen asleep. There was something not quite right with him, but Sam wasn't sure what it was.

…...

When Michael woke up he discovered his Mother sitting beside his bed, holding his hand. "Ma. How are you?"

"Oh honey." She squeezed his hand and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "You had us so worried. How are you feeling now?"

"I'll be fine, I'm sorry for all this." He attempted to move but gave up, the effort was just too much.

"Well, it's done with now, you just need to get better and come home."

"Ma, I don't think.." He couldn't tell her he didn't think he would be coming home any time soon.

"Michael." She squeezed his hand again to get him to look at her. "You do whatever is necessary to come back home. You hear me?"

He nodded. "I'll do my best."

Madeline got to her feet and patted his cheek. "That's all I ask Michael. Now Fiona wants to see you and that Callaghan bastard says we can only have a few minutes each so I'm gonna go now." With a kiss and a gentle hug she walked from the room, looking back she felt like she was abandoning her boy.

As Madeline left the room, Fiona was already walking towards her wanting to see for herself that Michael was awake and improving.

"Michael." She stepped into the room relief plain in her voice and on her face.

He looked at her, his eyes looked watery he made an effort to wipe them but stopped when he felt the handcuffs pull on his wrists. She was at his side now, pulling a paper tissue from a box on his bedside table wiping his eyes for him.

"Fi, I want you to go." His voice was muffled by the mask.

"Go where?" She asked puzzled. She tried to hold his hand but he had made a fist so instead all she could do was lay her hand on top of his.

"Go away, leave Miami." Her hand came away at his words, confusion showing on her face. He stared straight ahead not looking at her. "I told you it's too dangerous for you now, and I'm most likely going to prison for a very long time." He turned then and stared up at her. His breath coming a little faster. "I understand why you gave your phone to the FBI, I don't blame you for what you did."

"What I did?" Her voice rose a level not believing what she was hearing. How could he think she would... her hand came up of it's own accord, she just managed to stop herself striking him. She spun away trying to catch her breath, and regain control of her temper. He was ill, confused, Larry had been messing with his mind for nearly a week.

"You blame me for what happened on Biscayne?" She was back at his side now.

"It doesn't matter." The flat emotionless tone was back, made worse by the oxygen mask.

"Of course it matters, look at me damn it Michael." She grabbed his chin and pulled his head round so he had to look at her.

He blinked rapidly. "Fi, it happened let it lie. I can't be with you, accept it." He jerked his chin free from her grasp, turning away as far as he could.

"Michael." She spoke sharply. "If I go now. I won't be back."

He didn't move, and for several seconds neither did she. Then she drew herself up and left, shutting the door quietly behind her. Keeping her back straight and her head high she walked passed Madeline and Sam without speaking to either of them.

"Fi!" It was Sam coming up behind her, she walked faster. But he caught her up easily. "Fiona what did he say to you?"

She turned to face him. "He told me to go, to leave Miami."

He swore under his breath and then asked "What are you going to do?"

She stared up at him, determined not to cry or show any weakness. "What he asked me to, I can't keep chasing after him."

"Look he's messed up at the moment, you know what that scumbag Larry does to him. Not to mention all the other shit he's dealing with. Please don't leave town yet." He knew it was going to be a low blow but it didn't stop him. "How will Maddy cope if you run off now when Mike's in so much trouble. It'll break her heart if you go."

"That's low Sam, even for you." She slumped back against the wall.

"I know, but I can't hold all this together on my own." Then, trying to give her a little bit of an incentive to stay he added. "Hey you never know, if you hang around you may get a chance to shoot Larry."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter twenty five,

"Hey you never know, if you hang around you may get a chance to shoot Larry."

After Sam threw in that last incentive, Fiona grudgingly agreed not to leave the city. With one final look back at Michael's room, she pushed her way passed Sam and without another word she made her way out of the hospital. She hurried over to the nearby taxi stand and jumped into the first one in the queue.

" Take me to the River park hotel." She ordered. As the taxi moved off into traffic, she glanced out of the rear window. To see a beige sedan following, sighing she sat back in her seat. For now she woud let them follow her, the day she couldn't slip an FBI tail would be the day she deserved to be caught.

Finally reaching her hotel, she slid out of the taxi and walked inside. Striding passed the reception, and up the stairs leading to her room. This was the place she had called home since Jesse had blown up her new house.

A quick look up and down the corridor reassured her that the surveillance team was probably at the reception, interrogating the staff. Unlocking the door, she slipped inside and locked the door behind her. The room was spotless, nothing was out of place. A check of all the usual places a bug might have been hidden produced nothing, she relaxed, up until now they hadn't known about this place.

Kicking off her shoes, she went over to the french doors and opened them, letting in fresh air and light. Stepping outside, she leant over the balcony wall. Staring down onto the hotel's swimming pool, she wasn't looking at the guests swimming, or playing in the water, nor was she listening to the sounds of laughter and the playful shouts coming from the people below. Instead she saw Michael looking up at her from the hospital bed, speaking the words that hurt her so much.

_"I understand why you gave your phone to the FBI, I don't blame you for what you did."_

He thought she had betrayed him, he thought she had handed her phone over to the FBI out of spite because of his earlier words of dismissal. After all this time how could he possibly think she would do that to him. Those words had ripped through her heart, if he hadn't been so helpless she would have torn into him until he felt all the pain those words had caused.

All those years ago in Ireland she had kept his secret, when she discovered he was an American spy. Her head had told her to turn him over to the men who would have tortured him for information, before they executed him and left his body in some public place, to act as a warning to other spies and traitors. Instead she had followed her heart, choosing him over her own family.

Then when he had abandoned her in the middle of the night without a word. Not even at the height of her grief had she betrayed him to her brothers. One word from her and an IRA hit squad would have been out searching for him.

His words had cut her to the bone, to betray a friend, a lover was the worst thing he could have possibly have accused her of doing. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly trying to release the tension building in her body.

"What the hell am I meant to do?" She spoke the words out loud.

She lifted her hair away from her neck, twisting her long locks into a bun on top of her head then pining it in place with hairclips taken from a leather band around her wrist.

Why had he lost faith in her? She walked back inside, she wasn't going to get an answer out of him any time soon. She knew he looked at betrayal as an occupational hazard, but that wasn't her way. After he left her in Ireland she had fled the country herself, unable to face her family after what she had done.

She went over to her wardrobe and reached up to the top shelf, pulling aside the shoe boxes until she could reach the very back. Carefully she pulled out her sniper rifle, and a box of cartridges.

She carried the items over to her bed and settled down. Michael was going to have a lot of apologizing to do once he was better. Until then she had her search for Larry to keep her busy.

…...

Four agents dead, three died at the scene breaching the house belonging to Larry Sizemore, another died in hospital a day later. Callaghan stared into the room holding Michael Westen, it was his calls to Fiona Glenanne that led them to the house. Even if he didn't actually set up the explosives he was certainly an accomplice.

Turning away from the window, Callaghan went back to the side room he had made his office, he needed to compose himself before he started the interrogation. He was under pressure from his boss to get Westen to co-operate, going in there while he was angry and frustrated would not work. Even in his weakened state Westen was going to be a hard man to interrogate. Sam Axe had said his friend would hand over the information without a fuss, but the man had been conscious for the best part of a day and hadn't offered up anything so far.

Sitting down Callaghan pushed his copy of the Michael Westen dossier to one side, looking at that particular folder wasn't going to help him calm down. He lent back in his chair and shut is eyes forcing himself to relax.

"Sir!" Callaghan opened his eyes and sat up straight. Special Agent Roberts stood in the doorway.

"What is it, Roberts?"

"Westen just told his girlfriend to leave Miami. Axe spoke to her on the way out. She is staying for now but she must be considered a flight risk. What do you want to do about her?"

"Set up surveillance on her. My guess is she'll be out looking for Sizemore. Call me if she finds him."

Agent Roberts closed the door and headed off quickly to set the surveillance team for Fiona Glenanne and to make sure they knew Callaghan wanted her left alone unless she attempted to leave the city or if she found Larry Sizemore.

Callaghan got to his feet, pushing his emotions to the back of his mind. Now was the ideal time to question Westen. He would be tired from talking to his visitors and hopefully a little off balance from telling his girlfriend to leave him.

…...

As the door swung shut behind Fiona, Michael turned to lay on his back, he stared up at the ceiling. Behind him he could hear the guard who was stationed at the back of his room, talking quietly into his comm, reporting on what he had said to Fiona.

He had never felt so helpless, he jerked on the handcuffs with frustration. There was no need to restrain him, he was far to weak to try and escape, they had been put in place to remind him of his status. A prisoner, and a possible traitor.

The door opened and he glanced across, recognizing Special Agent Callaghan the man who had read him his rights and then promptly told him that because of who he was and the information he held none of those rights applied to him. The handcuffs had then been slapped in place and he had been left alone to consider his fate.

Callaghan pulled a chair over to his side. "So how are you feeling now?" Callaghan sat down, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other.

"Fine, just peachy." Michael turned towards him smiling behind the oxygen mask.

"Glad to hear it. Your friend Axe was telling me you were trying to hand over the NOC list when Agent Marvin Peterson was murdered is that correct?"

"I'm sure Jesse Porter confirmed that for you, Agent Callaghan." Michael continued to smile, trying to hide his tiredness.

Callaghan returned the smile. "You're right Agent Porter did confirm all that happened that day, and your debrief under polygraph was found at Brennan's home which confirms your innocence. That is right up to your Killing spree with Larry Sizemore. Seven confirmed deaths between you, and two more that are most likely the work of at least one of you."

Michael paled at hearing the number of people they had gone through, nine people in what? Four or five days. He couldn't even remember how long they had been on the run. Callaghan noticed the self assured smile had slipped.

"For the time being, I want to concentrate on where that NOC list might be, and who do you think was trying to kill you and Sizemore."

Michael ran his tongue over his lips, as he considered his answer. "Larry has a lot of enemies, from both before and after his death. It could be anyone of them. Plus my name has been out there, so anyone who wanted me dead could have planted that bomb as well. It'll be a long list if you want all the names."

There was no need to mention they had been on their way to a meeting with who ever it was paying Larry to get hold of the list. It was quite possible that with his cover blown, and all the FBI attention, Larry was no longer considered worth keeping as an asset.

"And the list, where do you think that is?" Callaghan asked, _Axe was wrong, Westen was not going_ _to help them willingly. _He thought.

"Have you asked Larry? He was the one holding it." Michael was fishing for information.

"Larry, according to witnesses saw you lying on the ground and walked off, leaving you to nearly bleed to death. In my book someone who does that, doesn't deserve any loyalty."

So Larry was still out there. Michael closed his eyes trying to buy some time while he thought through what he was going to say. Larry would not have taken the drive with him to the meeting, he would have hidden it somewhere. The Feds would have been all over the hotel room and it was obvious they hadn't found it. Larry couldn't go back in, while the area was full of Feds, so the drive was still wherever he had hidden it.

"You haven't answered my question." Callaghan reminded him.

"I don't know." He admited. "But when I'm a bit stronger I could possibly find it."

"Why not tell me where to..." He was interrupted.

"Sir, there is a call from Washington for you."

Callaghan stood up, pushing his chair back. "This conversation isn't over Westen. When I get back I want some straight answers."

...

In Washington, Jesse Porter had a whole series of photos and documents spread out over his desk. His mind was working so fast he couldn't believe what he was seeing. In the last week there had been a series of assassinations. The first incident was in The Dominican Republic, a hotel was blown up. Fourteen people killed and six more seriously injured. When Jesse had looked closer, he realized it was the hotel adjoining the bar where he had met the man auctioning the thumb drive.

Next was the CEO of a electronics company in Cleveland Ohio, who was shot in the head while walking down a crowded street. The police report said the sniper had to be at least a quarter of a mile away. The man was due to be called in to the local FBI field office for questioning about some of his government contracts.

The third incident, was the car bomb that nearly killed Michael, followed two days later by the death of a two star general who had been called to DC for questioning. The general's driver had failed to notice a device under the back seat of his limousine. In both incidents the same type of trigger switches had been used. It was becoming clear that there was a third party going after anyone connected to the NOC list. That was four incidents in just over a week.

Jesse reached for his phone he needed to pass this information up the chain, whoever was commiting these crimes had to be stopped as soon as possible.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter twenty six,

It was dark when Fiona quietly lowered a suitcase filled with a variety of weapons down to the ground. All the time she was on high alert, waiting to hear a shout from a FBI agent telling her to stop what she was doing. But the only sounds, were those carried faintly from the bars and clubs on the main street. So pulling the french doors to her room closed, she climbed over the balcony wall, and quietly dropped to the ground. Picking up the case, she carried it to one of the hotel's side gates. Taking out a hair clip, it took her no more than a few moments to pick the lock.

The gate opened on to a narrow strip of land, pulling out the handle on the suitcase she walked towards the darkest corner of the plot, dragging the case along on it's little wheels.

She hadn't walked far, when a car came towards her out of the darkness. The engine almost silent as it crept forward on tick over and with it's headlights switched off, any sane person would have turned away and ran. Fiona stopped in her tracks, as it came alongside her the driver leant out of his window.

"Hey there, you need a ride girly?" He called out.

She looked into the car, and a smile came to her face. "You really do like to live dangerously, don't you Donny?" She commented.

The car came to a stop, and Donny popped the trunk. Getting out he took the case off her. "I thought I was safe, with you needing a favour off me." He laughed, he was young, only just into his twenties. But his father was one of Fiona's closest friends in gun running business.

"Thanks, I owe you for this. Before you go you've not heard anything about an oldish guy, brown hair, blue eyes kinda slimy, looking for a boat ride out of the country in the last few days?"

"Nope but I'll ask around for you." He shut the trunk, and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Let us know when you want your stuff back." He was in the car now.

"See you around girly." He shouted out to her as he drove away, he switched the headlights on as he left the dirt road and joined the regular traffic.

Turning round Fiona headed back the way she had came, she was already missing her stash of guns. But she knew the first time she went out, the men following her would be in the room. Then, just like at Madeline's, they would confiscate every weapon they found.

Getting back into her room was just involved climbing up the rope she had used to lower the case down. Once inside, she checked her appearance in the mirror then picked up her handbag, and left her room by the door. She spent the rest of the evening eating in the hotel restaurant and then drinking in the bar, being watched over by two FBI agents. While a third broke into her room and after a thorough search, placed a couple of bugs, one in the phone and one in ceiling light.

…...

Sam Axe was glad to be back in his own place. He had taken Madeline home, and waited until she had gone inside, before he left. Now he kicked off his shoes, and got a beer out of the fridge and settled down on his Sofa. The peace and quiet was very soothing, one beer led to another until there was eight empty bottles on the coffee table, and Sam was snoring softly, with an arm dangling down on to the floor, and his feet hanging off the end of the sofa.

The sound of his phone ringing eventually broke through his slumber, he opened his eyes, waited for it to go to voice mail. If it was important, he would ring them back, if it was Maddy with some inane task he would ignore it.

"Sam, it's Jesse. Call me it's urgent."

With an annoyed grunt, Sam sat up and grabbed his phone. He dialled the number, and Jesse answered immediately, not giving Sam a chance to speak.

"Hey I'm glad you rang back. That car bomb that nearly killed Mike. The same person killed a General here in DC, using the same tactics and we think he also killed a CEO in Ohio and the auctioneer of the thumb drive in The Dominican Republic." Jesse rushed the words out.

Sam was wide awake now. "Jesus, how do you know it's the same person?"

"The auctioneer was killed when the hotel he was staying in was blown up, that bomb had the same chemical signature as the two car bombs. Also the General, and the CEO were both under investigation, it's believed they were part of Vaughns organization."

"I take it Callaghan knows?"

"Yeah, when I passed it on to my supervisor, he got on to every one concerned. Callaghan's under even more pressure now to get the NOC list. The theory is some one higher up in the organization is cleaning house. Without that list we may never find out what's going on. Why hasn't Mike handed it over already?"

Sam gave a long sigh. "Mike's." He tried to think how to explain it. "I don't know if it's something to do with his injuries or if it's something to do with Larry, but he's not acting like himself."

"Well you better get on to him, with all the crap this assassin has thrown up, Callaghan's been ordered to find out how soon Mike can be moved to a safe house. But he's been pushing for Mike to be sent to Raiford. He wants him in a Maximum security cell."

"Shit, I'll talk to him in the morning. I don't know what good it'll do. Like I said he's not himself at the moment."

"Just do your best. Look, I'm not meant to be talking to you. I'm still being watched. Everyone is under suspicion here, and it's only going to get worse til that NOC list is handed in."

"Ok I'll get on it. Thanks Jesse, take care."

He sat back after the call, so much for having a chance to unwind, Mikey was going to owe him big time when this was all over.

…...

Sam and Madeline discovered quite a few changes when they arrived at the hospital. When they got out of the elevator, they were met by two men with automatic rifles slung across their chests. At Michael's room, Sam suggested Madeline went in first. He was going to try and set Michael right on a few things, and hopefully afterwards he would be talking to Callaghan.

Madeline was shocked when she walked in to her son's room. He was sat in a chair, cushions around the sides helped support him, and his legs were supported by a leg rest that came out from the chair. He also had lost the face mask, he was still receiving oxygen but now by nasal cannulas. He looked tired, his complexion was very pale. "Hi." He smiled at her.

She took a seat next to him and held his hand, she turned his wrist over, under the handcuffs his wrists were sore and bruised. "Michael?" She queried.

"How did all this happen?" She asked. "They weren't like that yesterday."

"It's nothing, I had a rough night, and struggled with them. The guard had to wake me up." He admitted.

"Oh Michael." She squeezed his hand.

"I'm fine now, honest." He told her.

"So what did you say to Fiona yesterday?" She asked.

The sudden change in the subject, and tone in her voice threw him for a moment. "Nothing." He finally answered.

"It didn't look like nothing Michael, she looked very upset and at a time like this.."

"Ma please. It was nothing it'll turn out all right in the end." He gave a little cough, and yawned. Resting his head back he blinked a few times. "I'm really tired mom." He sighed the words out.

"You haven't seen how upset she's been, Michael. She's .."

"I get it ma." He whined. "But I just need to rest a bit."

Madeline huffed she didn't believe him for a minute. But he shut his eyes, and she settled to just holding his hand. If he wouldn't tell her what was going on she would do her best to track Fiona down and get an answer out of her.

Sam knocked on the door, and poked his head inside. For a moment he was surprised to see Michael sat up, then he looked more closely and saw Michael appeared to trying to fool his mother that he was asleep. Madeline patted her son on his hand and got to her feet. She leant forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "It's ok honey I'm going now." She whispered in his ear.

Sam came into the room, he studied his friend for a moment, not returning Michael's smile. Moving forward he sat facing his friend.

"What exactly are you playing at Mikey?" Sam asked, his voice was sharp.

"I'm not playing at anything Sam." Michael replied, surprised at the tone of voice.

"Callaghan is sending in a report saying you're being evasive and he wants to send you up to Raiford, put you in a Maximum security cell and throw away the key."

Michael didn't answer, he seemed to be staring at something behind Sam's shoulder.

"Did you hear what I said?" Sam growled.

"I heard you." He briefly made eye contact then his eyes slid away, back to staring at the wall.

"So are you going to start answering his questions?" Sam pushed for an answer. Michael's lack of interest in his own future angering him.

"I think you should go, take my Mom with you..." Michael said, ignoring Sam's question.

"Not a chance, brother I don't know what you said to Fi, but you're not doing it to me." He was on his feet. "Now what the hell is going on with you?"

"I'm tired Sam."

"Well you can sleep after you've.."

"No, I'm tired of all this. My life, fighting to get it all back. It's not going to happen now." Michael explained.

Sam grabbed the chair repositioned it, and sat back down. "I told you there's a deal on the table. Sure it's gonna need a bit of work to keep it there. But you know what would really help?" He leant forward. "They want that NOC list, if you know where it is tell them and stop messing around."

"I was told there are nine people dead, and four of them were Federal agents, I don't think they'll give me much of a deal whatever I do." Michael shook his head, unconvinced.

"How many of those people did you kill Mikey? Because I don't believe you stabbed a lady in the back just to get a car."

"I was there when Larry wired his house to blow. I left my phone to draw the Feds to the storeroom, it was just luck that there weren't more deaths. I'm as much to blame Sam, you can't change that. Take my Mom and let me sort this out myself."

Sam was back on his feet. "No."

"Fine you do what you want, but it won't matter." He tilted his head back, and shut his eyes.

"I'm going now. But I'll tell you this, the Michael Westen I know would never just give up. I can only guess what that bastard Larry has got you believing." Sam stopped by the door. " I'm coming back later, and you can be damn sure your Mom and Fi, if I can find her, will be back here as well."

He stormed out of the room, and almost knocked Madeline over in his rush. "Sam what's wrong?" She caught hold of his arm.

"Sorry, Madeline." He came to a halt and faced her. "Why don't you go back in with him for a while. Visiting time isn't over yet. I need to make some calls."

"What's he done now?" She asked, still with her hand gripping his arm.

Sam took a deep breath. "Just go and talk with him, Maddy see if you can cheer him up a bit."

Madeline watched him walk towards the waiting room, her eyes narrowed. They were hiding something from her, and if she wasn't told what it was soon, she was going to have to find out what it was herself.

...

In Barbados sat at a table, under an umbrella reading a four day old Miami newspaper, Larry was interested to read that there was no mention of Michael Westen as either injured or killed in the car bomb outside of a popular Miami Hotel. Folding up the paper neatly, he reached into the pocket of his shorts and brought out his phone. He pressed the speed dial of a FBI agent he was presently blackmailing, he drummed his fingers impaitently on the table. He hated waiting, finally the ringing tone stopped.

"Yes?" Special Agent Andrea O' Connell answered.

"You do this one thing for me and your debt is clear, you'll never hear from me again. As long as you keep your mouth shut." He didn't bother with introductions, she knew who he was.

"What is it?" She asked, nervously. Larry had killed her abusive husband last year, and ever since he had been using her for information and to hide evidence of his work.

"Find Michael Westen and give him a message for me."

She felt her heart race. "I do this and my debt is cleared?"

"That's what I said."

"What's the message?"


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty seven,

Special Agent Andrea O'Connell sat in her cubicle and tried to calm her breathing. She was finally going to be free of that psycho Larry. If she had known at the time that it would cost her far more than the money she paid to get rid of her abusive husband. She would have never answered the E mail that offered to deal with her problem.

Now all she had to do was insert herself into the Michael Westen case some how, and pass him a message. So how to get involved in the Westen case. She leant back in her chair, thinking. A smile slowly, crossed her face. She moved closer to her computer, it was simple she had done it before.

...

Michael wondered what Sam had said to his mother, because when she had come back into the room, he was forced to listen to the most mind numbing chatter he had ever had to endure. He wished she would have gone back to interrogating him about what he had said to Fiona. It had to be Sam's way of punishing him for not giving into Callaghan and spilling the location of the thumb drive. He was grateful when the guard on the door told her visiting time was over.

After Madeline left his room, a nurse came in and changed over the IV bags supplying saline and nutrients to his body. He had given up smiling at the nursing staff and asking their names. They all ignored him unless they had to ask him a question or pass on some advice. This one, changed the bags and then disappeared behind him to check the read outs from the monitors still attached to his body. Before leaving without having spoken a word.

He hadn't mentioned it, not even to Sam but he had a headache that wouldn't go and each time he fell asleep he was having the same disturbing dreams. Last night was the worst it had ever been. It was the reason he had done his best to stay awake all morning.

Now he sat staring at the blank wall in front of him. He knew there was a FBI agent sat somewhere behind him, but the men never uttered a word, unless it was to give a report. Michael felt his eyes closing, and he jerked himself awake. It was no good though, he couldn't fight the overwhelming tiredness.

_"You're a weapon kid, trained to kill. That's what's up with you." He could feel Larry's breath on his neck, the man was leaning over his shoulder._

_"You're being given too many choices, you need clarity. You're a weapon, you need some one to give you direction. That's why you wanted back in, you're a good soldier you need a chain of command. That's why we work so well together."_

_The icy cold of the nights in Afkanistan sent a chill down his spine, high up in the mountains. Rifle at the ready, stock against his shoulder, he is prone on the uneven rocky surface. He has been there for days, every part of him aches but he maintains his position. He has been given the go ahead, but he needs a target. Now, his target was there, the back of the head lined up perfectly in the sights, he took the shot. He felt the warm glow of a job well done. It was what he was born to do. It was what he wanted to do every day of his life.  
_

_He was down in the encampment everyone is gone, all but his target. Larry kicks the body over. "Good shot kid." He stares at the shattered face of Sam Axe. _

The agent at the back of the room jumps, as Westen's head hits the head rest and he lets out a groan. He checks the monitors and sees the prisoner's heart rate has risen.

Michael gasps, he drags air into his lungs. His hands are shaking, he will stay awake, he fights to keep his eyes open.

_"You're tied down." Larry tells him._

_"No." He denies it._

_"Prove it, you're tied down. No agency will touch you. They threw you out, your friends inform on you and your little gun runner girlfriend betrayed you."  
_

"Hey, Westen wake up!" Michael opens his eyes, he could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

"I've called for the Doc, stay awake." The agent's concern, worries him. Then he feels the pain radiating from his leg, when he looks he can see red seeping through the layers of dressings and bandages.

_"Remember kid keep you're mouth shut."_

They have to re-do a couple of stitches, he lays there quietly while they repair the damage he caused. The doctor speaks with the agent, and checks the readings on the monitors.

"Can you tell me what happened?" This is a different doctor to the one from last night.

"No." Michael replies. He is tired, but he is going to do his best to stay awake. The doctor gives him a long stare. Before writing on his notes. Michael's eyes flicker, he digs the nails of his left hand into his right arm, hoping it will help him stay awake.

…...

Fiona smiled, it was shame she had no one to share her victory. Fifteen minutes to lose her two man surveillance team. Admittedly it helped that the department store had been busy, but she had still lost them in less than a quarter of an hour.

She was in the store's basement parking garage, staying in the shadows doing her best to avoid the security cameras. Finally she saw what she was looking for, a black SUV, parked up at the end of a row and as far as she could see in a camera blind spot. Breaking in took a matter of moments and getting it started less than a minute.

She headed straight out to visit a quiet dock she knew about, where a couple of smugglers kept their boats. She felt her phone vibrate again, Sam was nothing if not persistent. She was sat at a set of lights, when the phone vibrated yet again. This was getting ridiculous, she thought angrily. The lights changed to green, she set off and activated her her blue tooth.

Sam must have been on his fiftieth attempt to contact Fiona, he was beginning to wonder how many calls it would take to fill her voice mail. He was surprised when instead of the message he had listened to so many times, he got her voice.

"What do you want, Sam?" Her tone was hostile.

"Fi, about time." Sam growled into the phone. "We need you to talk some sense in to Mike he won't listen to me, and I'm not comfortable with filling Maddy in with all the details so she can do it."

"He doesn't want to see me." She replied.

"It doesn't matter at the moment what he wants. It's what he needs, and what he needs is you." His words cut in to her, what about what she needed. She needed Michael to get his head out of his ass, and realize he was being used by a sociopath.

The line was so quiet, Sam thought Fi had hung up on him at first. Then just as he was about to speak. "Fine I'll be there soon. But I can tell you now, he won't like what I've got to say."

"It doesn't matter Fi, he needs you." The line went dead. Sam shut his cell phone and pressed it against his forehead. "Thank you, Fi." He muttered.

He was going to take a couple of minutes to finish his beer then he was going to call Callaghan and tell him to expect Fiona, and if he wanted that damn drive he better let her in and tell his men not to interfere.

…...

Michael really needed some one, any one to talk to, to keep him awake. After he had been stitched up, bandaged and dodged the doctor's questions. He was back to being left alone, he tried to turn as far around as he could, to see the agent he knew was somewhere behind him.

"Hey." He called out, nothing. Not that he honestly expected a reply. He stares up at the ceiling and begins counting the little holes in the tiles.

"_Hey kid, I've gotta job for you, a traitor who sold secrets to the enemy. Me and you used to love these jobs. What do you say?"_

The door opening, woke him up. He stared at the figure stood in the doorway. She slowly shut the door behind her and turned to face him. He brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes, unsure if he was still dreaming._  
_

"I told you to go?" He said coldly.

"You did, but I decided to stay." She spoke lightly as she walked towards him. He looked tired, but at least his breathing seemed more natural. It had to be a good thing, him being out of bed and no face mask.

She stopped next to him. "I wanted to see you one last time, before you get thrown into prison never to be seen again, and I wondered exactly how selfish really you are?" There was a sing song quality to her tone. Up close she could see he had been sweating, his hair was still damp.

"You don't understand." He replied. _"Stay strong, they'll try to break you."_

She leant over him, a hand on each of the arm rests of the chair. "Explain it to me. Then maybe I'll be able to explain it to your Mother." Her face was inches from his.

He breathed in her scent, she watched his resolve begin to crack. He tried to break eye contact, but she was too close. "Fi, don't do this." He dropped his head, his forehead touching hers.

She relented and backed off to stand next to him. She placed a hand on his cheek, gently bringing his head up and toward her. "Why are you doing this?" She asked.

"That list, it's all I have."

She gritted teeth resisting the urge to slap him. He was still weak, injured and he definitely wasn't thinking clearly. "What about us? Me, Sam your Mother, don't we mean anything to you?"

He tried to look away, but she kept up the pressure on his cheek, keeping his head still. "Sam told me that if you're co-operative and hand over that damned list, it would go a long way to getting you off."

_"What did I say kid!"_ Michael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them. Maybe she would understand. He told the insistent voice in his head.

He brought his hands up and caught hold of the hand on his face, pulling it away clasping it to his chest. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart. "The people on that list, if they're caught they'll make a deal. At worse they'll lose their jobs, or maybe face house arrest." He looked into her eyes, his expression cold. "If I or Larry find them, they won't be so lucky."

She pulled her hand away, and turned her back on him, her arms wrapped round her body, she hugged herself. "This isn't you Michael."

"It's what they've made me." He replied, softly.

She took a deep breath, he was hurt, and had serious injuries, as well as being under a lot of stress. She thought of every excuse she could come up with, she even tried counting to ten. She was ready, taking another deep breath she turned back to him.

The sound of the slap, echoed round the room. The agent sitting in the corner came to his feet, but froze at Fiona's expression. Remembering his orders he returned to his seat.

She dropped her gaze to Michael, the whole side of his face was red, the nasal cannulas had come away and he was beginning to wheeze. He looked at her through watering eyes, his expression one of total shock. She replaced the cannulas, and looked into his eyes.

"I wanted you to understand, how the rest of us feel. Do you have the slightest idea what you've put us all through?"

He went to speak, but stopped when he saw the raised hand. "If the next words out of your mouth are anything other than an apology." She warned him.

"I'm sorry I've hurt you, but it doesn't change anything. If I tell them where to look, I'll still go to jail and no one will pay."

_"She gave you up, without a thought she is working with them even now. Don't do it kid." __  
_

"You do this your way. Means you're willing to rot away in prison, or get a needle in your arm. So that maybe Larry will get the list, and maybe he will kill the people who burnt you. Do you realize you're throwing away everything we've had in the last four years." She turned away again. The only sound was his breathing. She waited.

"Fi, Fiona." He called to her, his voice was soft, pleading. She gave in and faced him.

"What." She demanded. He looked broken.

"Get me a deal in writing, and I'll help them." He whispered.

She was at his side, she could see it had been a hard decision for him. It was only for her he was doing it, though he would never admit it. She lent forward and kissed his forehead, his hands came up and directed her lips down to his. She broke away, when he began to gasp, and the hand that rested gently on his chest could feel his heart racing.

"I'll let you rest now. I need to see Sam and tell him what you've said." She touched his cheek and lent forward, gently brushing his lips with her own.

_"When do they ever give something like this in writing?"_

…...

"Sir?" Callaghan looked up, not recognizing the woman who stood just inside his door. "Sorry Sir I did knock."

"And you are?" He gestured for her to come in.

"SA O' Connell, sir I've been sent down by records, fingerprint and DNA need to be retaken on Westen."

"Both were taken when he was admitted to hospital O'Connell, why do records need duplicates, and why hasn't a formal request come through?"

"I thought the request had been sent sir, but I'm here now. Is it possible to go through?" She put on her brightest smile.

Callaghan checked his E mails, pursing his lips when he found an unopened message from the records department. It had been a long hard day, Glenanne had come through. The request for a written agreement had been sent up the line. He was just glad that none of the nursing staff had seen Fiona Glenanne working her magic.

"Go ahead, O'Connell. Make sure you leave your gun with the agent at the door, when you go inside."

"Thank you sir." She smiled, ten more minutes and she would be free.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter twenty eight,

Fiona caressed his cheek with her hand and then lent forward, gently brushing his lips with her own. He watched as she walked away. Reaching the door she turned, and gave him one last smile before she left to let him rest.

_"When do they ever give something like this in writing?" _It was the nasty little voice in his head, not quite ready to be silenced._  
_

Michael raised his hands up to his face, to where she had slapped him. He hadn't even considered how much trouble he had put everyone else through. Maybe she was right he was selfish. He dropped his arms back down on to his lap, and stared at the handcuffs. The whole deal in writing, was a stalling tactic. Sam would recognize it for what it was as soon as she told him.

He thought about all the times his Mother had started a sentence with 'you know it's not normal.' Or 'normal people don't.' She worried he no longer saw things the way most people did, and she was right. A normal person would know without needing to be told, that the things he had done recently, were wrong. A normal person would know how their actions effected their loved ones. It took him a hard slap round the face to get the idea.

He flung his head back and gazed at the ceiling. The last four years hadn't been that bad, if he was honest. They had helped a lot of people, it was not the same as foiling a terror plot or ridding the world of an evil dictator. But it did make you feel good, if at the end of the day a problem drug dealer was gone from a community. Or a mother and child could sleep safe with the knowledge their abuser was in jail.

He had enjoyed lazy evenings sat drinking beer with Sam, reflecting on whatever had happened during the day. There was also the nights, that Fiona stayed at the loft, something she had been doing a lot more recently. He had noticed she wasn't making a serious attempt to look for a new home of her own.

Then there was the fact he had grown accustomed to having a team he could trust, that he could call on at a moments notice. That put up with all his bagagge, and stopped him when he went too far. Like now. He closed his eyes and thought about what he had nearly lost. What he still might lose, if he wasn't careful.

The door to his room opened, he was expecting Callaghan. But it was a woman, she gave him a nervous smile then opened a brief case. "I just need to take DNA and fingerprints." She explained.

She produced a swab, Michael obediently opened his mouth. She was back a moment later to take his fingerprints, he gave her a quizzical look as she lent over and whispered in his ear. She finished up, and left as quickly as she could, he stared after her. As he realized the message could have come from only one person.

"_I told ya kid we're partners I'd never let you down, and I meant it. Now stop your pouting and do your part." _That nasty little voice was louder now, and more demanding._  
_

Michael was tempted to laugh. What had Fiona said last time? Something about Larry making a nest in his head.

Eight little words, and Larry was back in charge, giving orders. He had no choice but to obey, it didn't matter, what he wanted.

The eight little words, "Simon Escher is coming for you. Remember Solokov."

He had to tell Callaghan that a walking nightmare, who if the mood took him would blow up the whole hospital to get him, was on the loose.

"Hey, tell Callaghan I need to speak to him." He called out to the guard.

He got no reply but he could hear his request was being passed on. While he waited he thought about Solokov, it was one of Larry's unofficial cover names from a job in '92, no one but the two of them knew what it meant. He was so wrapped in his own thoughts he didn't realize Callaghan was in the room until he spoke.

"What do you want Westen?" Callaghan was hoping to get away early, he hadn't seen his kids in three days.

"You asked about who planted the car bomb? Get these handcuffs off, and I'll tell you who did it." He bit his lip, he just couldn't give up something for nothing. It was bad trade craft.

"Why now? When I asked you yesterday you claimed not to know." Callaghan replied, something had changed, Westen didn't do anything without a purpose, the trick was to try and get ahead of him.

"That was yesterday. I'm not asking for a lot, it's not like I can run away is it?" He tried to smile, but he was too tired.

"The name of the bomber, and everything you know about him." Callaghan pushed, he realized he wasn't going to get away early.

"Deal." Michael managed a brief smile, it wasn't a problem, both Fiona and Sam could fill in most of the details. He held his hands out, making the chain between the cuffs jingle.

"The name first. If I find out you're lying I'll have you dropped into the deepest hole I can find."

"Simon Escher, do you remember the name?"

Callaghan remembered it. "The man who ran amok with you last year?"

Michael nodded. "He also planted a bomb in a hotel just to get me to go along with him. Now the cuffs?"

Callaghan was at the door, he turned round. "Remove the handcuffs, if he gives you any trouble at all put them back on." He gave the order.

Callaghan headed back towards his office he was going to get straight on the phone, if Westen was telling the truth, he had the name of the mystery assassin. He came to an abrupt halt, what had made Westen give up the information right now? He looked at the guard on Westen's door.

"Find Special Agent O'Connell, I want her in custody right now." He turned back towards his office. He had a call to make, then he wanted the tape from the camera that kept a constant watch on Westen. He only gave up the name of the bomber after O'Connell had been in with him.

The agent dashed down the corridor. The female agent had only left ten minutes ago she could still be in the building. As he ran towards the nearest car park he got on to his radio, alerting the rest of the team.

…...

Larry glanced up at the departures board at the Barbados international airport. He had given his little pet enough time to deliver her message. He was undecided at the moment whether to let her live or not. He had enjoyed a nice break and was feeling generous, so he thought he might leave her alone.

He had met up with his accountant the day after he had arrived on the lovely caribbean island. All his off shore accounts were safe, and his accountant was making sure that the US government could not get their hands on any off it. With his immediate money worries attended to, he had taken care of a little business in Caracas, Venezuela. A bit of payment in kind work, for one dead rival, a master forger gave him a brand new, guaranteed not to be flagged identity.

Now he was getting ready to head back to Miami. Michael would have got his message, and it didn't really matter how he felt about working with him. He was sure the girlfriend and the wet rag Axe would have been back, whispering in his ear. If Michael had a fault it was that he lacked the necessary focus to be left alone for long periods. On this occassion it didn't matter, Michael had only one move.

He smiled up at the screen, his plane was boarding. He walked briskly to join the line, holding out an arm he allowed an elderly couple to stand in front of him. He was in a very good mood, he thought he might actually let Special Agent O'Connell live.

…...

_"The truth will set you free. I told him that, my brother in arms. I'm not sure if he believed me. It's not completely true of course, the truth may very well set you free. _

_But what set me free was money. Money to buy off my gaolers, to feed me information about the outside world. Money to buy a killer for hire to keep my brother safe, a father figure to nuture him, to encourage him to reach his full potential.  
_

_After truth and money comes fear. I told my guardians their leader would die, and when he did within a day of my prophesy I had them in my hand. And there I was free, I'd told them the truth, their empire was going to be pulled down by a couple of pawns. Mercenaries, easily led fools, loyal to the highest bidder.  
_

_Then while all the attention was on my brother, I crept into the game. I reclaimed the good book from the thief, who tried to sell the word of god, and then I took two names off the list. I matched my brother's score, now it is time we were together. We need to clear a few more pieces off the board first, until we can find the King."_

Simon sat in a three year old Honda Accord, across from Madeline Westen's house_. _He sat completely still, waiting.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter twenty nine.

.

Madeline was tidying, it was what she did when she was worried. She made her way around the house duster in one hand, cigarette in the other. As she cleaned, her mind was running through everything that had happen during the day. She couldn't remember a time when Sam had been as worked up as he was when he came out of Michael's room. It was a repeat of the previous day really, whatever Michael had said to drive Fiona away, her son had just tried to do the same thing to Sam.

It was typical Michael of course, to drive away everyone he cared about, when he thought he was in trouble. He had done the same thing as a child. He would push her and Nate away, when he had done something to antagonize Frank.

She finished her dusting, standing in the middle of the lounge with her hands on her hips, cigarette hanging out from the side of her mouth. She looked around the room, everything was in its proper place. Walking into the kitchen she began to hum along to a tune on the radio, she would invite both Fiona and Sam over for dinner, and a nice chat. That way she could corner them, and maybe find out what was going on.

She started looking through her cupboards, after a futile search for something to cook she moved to sorting through the pile of take out menus she kept next to the phone.

She would have to find out what they wanted, so she started dialling numbers. She tried Sam's and Fiona's numbers alternately both were busy. Huffing with annoyance she continued to dial one then the other. Pulling an ashtray over she stubbed out one cigarette and got out another lit up, before dialling again.

Fiona's number was ringing, now she was getting somewhere. At that moment the doorbell rang, she looked at the phone and then at the door. The doorbell rang again, damn. Putting the phone down on the counter she went to the door. Looking through the window, she could see a man stood on her door step dressed in a suit. He had to be a Fed, she wished they would just leave her alone. Muttering to herself she opened the door.

Fiona's phone went to voice mail just as Madeline spoke to the man standing before her.

...

Special Agent O'Connell sat on a hard metal chair, her elbows resting on a hard metal table. Both pieces of furniture were bolted to the floor. She had been picked up while she sat at her desk, back at the records department. Two large men had walked into her office one of them had stopped at her side. The other had flashed their department of defence identity cards at her boss. He had then stood aside turning his back on her as she was marched out of the building in front of everybody.

Bundled into a black sedan with blacked out windows, she sat trembling between the two men. When the car eventually came to a stop she was in an underground carpark. Still without a word being spoken to her she was escorted to an elevator, finally she had been left alone in a poorly lit windowless room.

She soon lost track of time, fear was taking over her every thought. She remembered the warning she had got from Larry. 'If I even think you're talking to the cops and I'll kill everyone involved.' She was dead, she knew it, nobody could help her.

She jumped when the door opened, there in the door way was Director Faye himself. She recognized him from a variety of newspaper photos. She looked at him through red rimmed eyes as he continued to stare at her with ill concealed contempt. He didn't enter the room, he wasn't expecting a long interrogation.

"What did you say to Michael Westen, and who told you what to say?" He snapped the words out.

"He'll kill me." She muttered, shaking her head.

"Let me be clear here. You were caught passing a message to a man suspected of being a traitor. If I were you I'd be more worried about ever leaving this room." His voice was harsh, she must have known what she was getting herself into.

She looked up for a moment. " I told him Simon Escher was coming for him and to remember Solokov."

"Do know what it means?" He pushed for more information.

She shook her head and her shoulder's slumped, Larry was going to kill her. It was just a case of waiting for it to happen.

"Who gave you the message?" He waited for an answer, becoming more angry by the second. When there was no answer forthcoming he continued. "How do you know Larry Sizemore?" There was only one person who would send Westen a covert message.

She shook her head again. She was a clerk really, she had never wanted to do field work. Her husband had been a bully, she had tried leaving him but he always managed to talk her into coming back. At the time making a deal with a killer over the internet had seemed like a good idea.

"You're a fool, Special Agent O'Connell. You had best hope Larry Sizemore doesn't have any contacts where you're going." He shut the door on her, the team working on the Sizemore, Westen case had a new lead to work. They had to find out what or who Solokov was and then what it meant to Westen.

…...

Sam had finally relaxed, he was back at his own place, sat on a wicker sofa out on the veranda. He could hear some kids playing out, and somebody else was playing their music far too loud. But nothing was going to destroy his good mood. Fiona would get through to Mikey, he had no doubt about that, and once he was talking to Callaghan everything would be all right.

He helped himself to another beer out of the cooler, in a little while he would have a shower, and for the first time in nearly two weeks he would have a night out. He grabbed up his phone and smiled as he began to scroll through the list of his lady friends. He stopped when he found the name he was looking for, pressing dial he held the phone up to his ear.

"Hey baby it's Sammy, you fancy a night out, there's that new club on South Beach. A meal and a bit of dancing what do you think?"

He smiled Gloria was always up for a night of fun. "Well sure sweetheart, I'll pick you up at eight." He listened a bit more. "Well of course I remember that place, with the swordfish. I'll get straight onto it. A table for two."

He hung up the phone and settled back on the sofa. From being nearly ready to pull his hair out a few hours ago, he was now back to his normal chilled self. His phone rang, he looked at the caller ID It was Fi.

"Hey, how did it go. You left him in one piece?"

"Yeah Sam, I spoke to Callaghan. Michael just wants an agreement in writing, he's worried they'll break their promise."

He felt the first twinge of doubt, things were not going to workout as he hoped. "Is that what he said?"

She picked immediately on his tone. "What? What aren't you telling me?" Her voice was going up in tone.

"He knows nobody is going to put their name to anything to do with this affair. In the end it'll all get pushed under the carpet."

The line went quiet. Now his evening was definitely ruined 'Thank you Mike Westen'.

"Fi? You still there?"

"Yes, I'm just thinking about what I'm going to do next."

This wasn't good. "Don't be hasty, he's probably just said it to get time to think."

"He's had plenty of time to think." He could hear the anger in her voice. Anger and hurt. He was on his feet now.

"Look where are you?" He asked, hunting round the floor, looking for his shoes.

"Back at the loft. I wanted to see what damage the Feds had done to the place. I was thinking of cleaning it up. Can you believe that?"

"Wait there and I'll be over soon. Don't do anything rash ok." He was going to have to ring Gloria back and tell her their night was cancelled.

…...

Fiona sat in the loft, looking at the mess the FBI had left behind, just like at Maddy's all the weapons were gone, detonators and fuse wire as well. She checked in the space upstairs under the table where he kept his C4, that was gone too. She would have to contact Donny, get a couple of her own guns back. It felt wrong walking about unarmed and without a brick or two of C4 in her car.

She sat down on Michael's bed and got her phone out of her bag. While she waited for Sam she would delete some of his messages, free up a bit of space. Halfway through she saw a message from Madeline.

She put the phone up to her ear to check what she wanted, hopefully it would be something that could wait. Madeline had a strange ability of seeing through all her anger and disappointment in her son. She didn't want to face that right now.

"Hello." It was Madeline's voice, but she wasn't speaking to the voicemail, her voice sounded faint.

"No Michael's not here who are..." Fiona went pale as she heard what sounded like a blow followed by the crash of a body onto the floor. She heard a door slam and then a dragging noise before the phone was hung up.

…...

_Sometimes you are stuck following a plan that you have no control over. When caught in that situation, it comes down to how much you trust the man with the plan._

Michael came awake suddenly his eyes wide, his heart beating fast, his chest hurting from the effort to breathe. He raised a hand and checked the nasal cannulas were still in place, as he became more aware he could feel the pain begin to subside and he felt his body begin to sag. He hated feeling this weak and vulnerable.

He lay back, it had been another dream. He ran his hands over his face and up into his hair, as he looked up at the ceiling, for the first time he realized he was in bed. He had slept through being transferred out of the chair. It made him realize how exhausted he was, he wondered how long he could carry on.

That wasn't all, as he looked at his arms he noticed he had also missed the removal of all the lines and tubes from his arms. They must be getting ready to transport him. Larry's plan was moving at a pace, and all he could do was go along with it, at least for now. And that was the problem, at some point he was going have to decide whose side he was on.

The door opened and two men came in to the room, one was pushing a wheelchair, the other held a set of clothes.

"Time to get up Westen." One of the men said, he dropped the clothes onto the bed. Along with a set of underwear, socks and canvas plimsolls were bright orange pants and a matching v neck shirt. Prison garb. Michael pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Where are you taking me?" It looked liked Larry's plan would fail, if they put him in prison it was all over.

"Just get dressed." The man said his tone matter of fact. He held out the orange top. "Now."


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: This almost wrote itself, so I decided to give it a chapter of its own.

Chapter thirty.

Fiona sat staring in horror at her phone, she checked the time of the call. It happened an hour ago. She got straight back on to Sam. He answered on the third ring.

"What's up Fi, I'm just getting into my car?"

"I've just found a message from Madeline I think she's in trouble. Meet me there." She rung off before he could ask any more questions.

It was at least a quarter of an hour journey to get from the loft to Madeline's. Fiona ran down the steps and jumped into her 'borrowed' car, she pulled away in a cloud of smoke as the wheels spun from her foot flooring the accelerator.

She was on the causeway, weaving her way through the traffic, somebody had attacked Madeline in her own home. It had to be Larry, had he gone completely crazy? What did he think he would gain hurting Michael's mother?

She was nearly there, Sam hadn't arrived. She pulled up on the driveway and went up to the front door, she peered in through the windows trying to see inside through the gaps in the blinds. Not taking any chances she went round to the back door, it was easier to see inside through the kitchen window.

She still couldn't see in there clearly, she wanted to get inside but she also knew she needed to wait for Sam to back her up.

…...

Sam had only just got off the phone from letting Gloria down, he had stayed in her good graces by offering to take her out as soon as he was free, it would have to be somewhere very expensive. When Fiona rang him again this time with a panicked message to get over to Madeline's. He had only just finished his hunt for his car keys, when his phone rang yet again. He was on the point of ignoring the call, when he saw it was from Jack Faye. He took the call while unlocking his car.

"Hello." He answered slipping into the drivers seat.

"Sam, Larry passed a message to Westen. We got the messenger but only after he got the message. What do you know about Solokov? Has Westen ever mentioned it to you?"

Sam was on his way to Madeline's. "I can't think of anything off hand Jack. Let me think about it, I'll ask Fiona about it when I see her. Solokov right. It sounds Russian."

"Get on to Special Agent Callaghan if you remember something. What's this about Westen wanting a written guarantee? He's not that stupid is he?"

"I don't know, look Jack I'll think it all through, but I've got to go now." He was in heavy traffic, trying to make a couple of left hand turns.

"Keep us up to date with what you're up to Sam, remember the agreement your phone on at all times."

"I've got it Jack. Bye for now." He hung up as he pulled up on the street outside Maddy's house.

Getting out he noticed how quiet it was, the car Fiona was using was on the drive, but where was she? He went up to the front door and peered inside. Just like Fiona he couldn't see anything. He went round the side planning on looking in through the kitchen window. He noticed the kitchen door was ajar. He pulled out his gun and slowly crept into the kitchen, he could hear a muffled sobbing noise.

"Sam Axe, come on in, take a seat next to Fiona here. I have some questions for you all." Sam stayed where he was.

"Oh don't be shy Sam, it could get poor Madeline hurt. How would Michael feel if you got his mom killed."

This wasn't Larry. What else had Mike got himself mixed up in? Sam stood up straight slowly, and walked into the lounge. Madeline was sat in a chair, tied in place by her wrists and ankles with cable ties. Her mouth was covered by duct tape. Sam was more concerned by the rather large bomb fixed under the chair.

Fiona was sat at the dining table, her arms cable tied in front of her. Her hand bag was on the sofa, up ended all the contents spread out. He recognized the man now, Simon Escher the lunatic who had nearly blown up a hotel a year ago.

"I thought you were locked up in some deep dark hole." Sam commented, he was eyeing the dead man's switch in the nutcase's hand.

"It is truly amazing how the promise of wealth can help you climb out of the deepest hole." Simon walked around the room as he spoke. He stopped and pointed to the underside of Madeline's chair.

"Don't you think that it is a thing of beauty. Something so small but it can cause such great destruction." He turned to Fiona. "Surely you can admire such a work of art." He began walking around again. "Take a seat at the table Sam. But first throw that gun down next to Ms Glenanne's bag." He threw a cable tie onto the table. "Once you're comfortable just tie your hands please."

Sam obeyed the commands sitting himself down next to Fiona and then using his teeth to tighten the loop. "What do you want Simon?" Sam asked. Trying to remain calm, while trying to think of a way out of the situation.

"What do I want?" Simon stopped in front of Madeline. " I want lots of things Sam. I want all the people who took my life away and gave it to someone else to die a fiery death. I want the man who lied to me, to return my property." His voice was getting louder and he was beginning to sound more and more unstable. "I want my brother at my side as we smote the wicked and the deceivers."

He had his hand on Madeline's head now and was staring up at the ceiling. Sam and Fiona looked at each other, neither sure how to deal with this obvious mad man.

"So mommy where is Michael?" Simon was suddenly calm. He looked at each of them in turn, a smile on his face. He stuck out his bottom lip and pulled a face. "Aw you don't want to tell me. Do you really want to watch mommy go boom?" He patted a terrified Madeline on the head.

Sam gulped and took a chance on telling the lunatic the truth. "Michael is in Federal custody he was injured when a car bomb went off six days ago."

Simon moved away from Madeline and came to stand in front of Sam. "Who else was caught in the blast?"

"Michael was closest to the car, if you're asking about Larry he got away." Sam told him, he was not a fan of giving bad news to a man holding a dead man's switch but he saw no way out of it.

"Larry got away? Got away where?" He leant across the table, his expression cold and deadly.

"We don't know, Michael doesn't know either." Sam returned his stare, eye to eye.

Simon spun away from the table and resumed his pacing. They listened to his wild rantings until he came to a stop.

"Where are they holding Michael?"

This was awkward, do you send a mad assassin into a hospital. Simon looked at Sam and Fiona maybe they wouldn't tell him but he could guess who would. He ripped the tape from Madeline's mouth.

"Tell me mommy, where can I find Lil Mikey?" He was face to face with her, enjoying the fear in her eyes.

He got a surprise when she spat at him. Then almost snarled "Go to hell." He reeled away from her, his expression shocked.

"Wow. Well that surprised me. How much will this surprise you?" He started walking backwards, towards the door.

"Ok!" Sam shouted. "Enough. He's at Mount Sinai hospital, in ICU under a large FBI guard. If I was you I'd forget about him."

Simon stopped at the door. He grinned at them all. "It's been fun, I'm going now. You tell Michael I'll be seeing him very soon. I'd say you have five minutes to get free, and then deal with the bomb." He gave them an extra big smile and a wave of the remote. "I hope you all make it. Bye for now." He was gone, they all froze in place for a moment, then Fiona and Sam sprang in to action.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter thirty one,

.

"Where are you taking me?" Michael asked, it looked liked Larry's plan would fail, if they put him in prison it was all over.

"Just get dressed." The man said, his tone matter of fact. He held out an orange top. "Now."

Michael stared at the bright orange clothing, at the v neck loose fitting shirt being held out for him to put on. If he went to prison it wouldn't matter what Larry had planned. It wouldn't matter that Simon was out there somewhere causing mayhem. They could become somebody else's problem.

It would mean his mom, Fiona and Sam could get on with their lives. He would no longer be a danger to them. If he stopped fighting, accepted his fate, maybe it would even shut up that damn voice in his head and let him get some sleep. A wave of dizziness made him sway as he sat on the edge of the bed.

A hand gripped his shoulder steadying him. "Come on, stop wasting time."

He felt his limbs begin to move slowly, as he obeyed the order. There was something comforting about following orders, not having to think for himself.

Even with help, by the time Michael was dressed, he was exhausted and in pain. He sat slumped in the chair not even having the energy to raise his head. He was wheeled out of the room and then taken down to the parking levels. His interest wasn't even piqued by a brief view of the sky. Why get excited about a sight he may never see again. Better just to accept the pleasant feeling of numbness that was filling his mind.

Three identical black limousines were waiting in parking bays nearest the elevators, Michael was placed in one, Callaghan followed him inside and sat down facing him. As the car pulled out into traffic, Michael turned his head towards the window and found himself staring at his own reflection. He blinked slowly, barely recognizing himself.

All his years of training and finely tuned survival instincts pushed him to try and remember how he got to this point. Trying to make him find something to focus on, to hold onto. However the edges of his memory were blurring. The harder he tried to put events into the correct sequence the more the details seemed to slip away from him.

He had no idea how long he had been in the hospital, the blinds had been kept closed, the lights always on. Day and night merging into one, no TV or radio, only the short visits from his mother and friends to break up the monotony. He thought there had been a car crash, and somebody told him nine people were dead. Solokov was coming, but how did he know that? It was an old name from a long time ago. He felt himself drift off a little further.

Callaghan studied the prisoner, it was hard to believe this was the same man he had chased a year ago. The same man who had until recently been on the run for six days and was only caught because he was too injured to keep going. This man looked broken, it showed in the slump of the shoulders and in the lacklustre eyes. As he studied Westen, Callaghan noticed the man's lips were moving. He lent forward in his seat but couldn't make out the words.

They were slowing down now, nearing their destination, and Callaghan was getting more worried. They had pulled Westen out of the hospital against medical advice. But in a conference earlier in the day it had been decided it was too dangerous to keep the man there. It was a security nightmare and unsafe for the public. Nobody wanted to be held responsible if one of the two lunatics chasing after Westen decided to either plant a bomb or attempt an armed assault on a large hospital.

Callaghan spoke into his radio. "Tell the Doctor to be ready. Something's not right with Westen."

"We're here." He nudged Westen's foot with this own. Michael didn't respond, he could hear Callaghan's voice but the words sounded muffled and indistinct. The effort to move was too much. His final thought was that if he was to be imprisoned it didn't matter if he was awake or not.

As soon as the car came to a stop Callaghan had the door open. "Get him inside. Is the Doc set up for him?"

"He's just laying out his equipment he only got here ten minutes ago." Came the quick reply, as two other agents carried Michael inside the large single storey house.

"He should have been here an hour ago. What was the hold up?" Callaghan was instantly on his guard.

"Agent Roberts didn't turn up for his shift sir."

"Get some men over to Robert's home now." Callaghan dismissed the man he had been talking to and moved into the house.

The property had belonged to a cocaine smuggler until a year ago. It had bullet resistant glass and re enforced walls, a state of the art alarm system and a full range of security cameras. It was one of the most secure safe houses the FBI possessed in Miami.

As Callaghan walked through the house, he called into the security office and checked the tactical team guarding the perimeter were in place. He also made sure the team inside knew their job and shift patterns. Nobody would be going home until this case was resolved. He moved into the lounge where the bed was set up for Westen.

Michael lay immobile and unresponsive as the FBI's Doctor, put another line into his arm, and set up a drip. "I've increased his oxygen support and I'm giving him IV fluids, his blood pressure is too high and his heart rate is increasing. He wasn't fit to be moved in the first place. Why ask for medical advice if you're not going to take it?" The Doctor grumbled.

"Not my decision Doc you know that. What's up with him? He seemed fine at the hospital, and then went down fast on the ride over here."

The Doctor had Michael's file from the ICU, before answering he scanned the last set of test reults, and skimmed through the nursing notes. "All the latest bloods and the CT scan show steady improvement. However under normal circumstances he wouldn't have been released from ICU for at least another couple of days. He needs to rest, and build up his strength."

The sharp scratch of the cannula being put into his arm, raised Michael's level of consciousness slightly. His training tried to assert itself again, this time telling him to give his report. "Lar, Larrysh." Both men stopped talking. Michael's eyes were open, but unfocussed. He tried again, his mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool. "Shh, Solokosh." He was slurring badly. "Sholokosh, c'min, c'min, c'min here." His lips continued to move but his words were no longer audible. He was also beginning to shake, a fine film of sweat appearing on his face.

"What was that about?" The Doctor asked, he was checking his patient's pulse again and with a shake of his head he started to prepare a syringe.

"Westen's partner in the recent killing of four agents managed to get a message to him. Remember Solokov. He's just told us Solokov is a person. What are you giving him?"

"I'm going to sedate him, he needs to rest." The Doctor glanced over at his patient. "Has he been told about his Mother and friends?"

Callaghan shook his head. "I didn't think it was wise to tell him anything until I'd spoken to you."

"My advice would be leave it."

"When will he be up to answering questions?"

"Let him sleep off the sedative and then see how he is." He opened a port on the cannula and gave him the sedative.

"Larrysh c'min, not lar, Solokov. Fi wan wan fi so so." The words faded out again, this time his eyes shut and the shaking slowed then stopped.

"He going to be all right.?" Callaghan asked, if Westen died the investigation would stall.

"Honestly, I don't know. He's very weak. I take it you still want to keep him out of hospital?" The Doctor was already setting up resuscitation equipment next to the bed just in case.

…...

As the door shut behind Simon, both Sam and Fiona jumped up from their seats. While Sam shot into the kitchen looking for something to cut off the cable ties. Fiona was on her hands and knees next to Madeline.

"Get me out of this chair!" Madeline sobbed.

"We will, but let me check it's safe first. Can you remember, did he put anything under the chair legs? Or on the seat before you sat on it." Fiona was trying to check if there was any hidden wires, or a pressure plate. Concentrating on the task, trying not to think it was Michael's mother tied to the chair. And what would happen if she made a mistake.

Sam was at her side now, with his hands free, he cut Fiona's bonds and then looked up at Madeline. "I'm going to cut you loose now Maddy, but please don't move until we tell you to. Ok?" He waited for her to nod before he released her.

"Madeline, did he put anything on the chair before you sat down?" Fiona asked again, she was fairly positive there were no wires under the chair legs.

"N-no, can I get up now?" Sam joined Fiona in one final check. They knew they didn't have long to make a decision. Simon said five minutes, but who trusted the words of a mad man.

"Right." Sam took a deep breath. "Lets do this." He looked first at the front door and then to the kitchen door. The front door was closer, it would also be a straight line dash.

"I'll do it." Fiona said. "I can run faster than you."

"Mike will kill me if I let you do this, go open the door." Fiona gave an annoyed sniff, knowing that Sam was not going to let her get rid of the bomb.

"Ok Maddy, get up slowly." Madeline got up and moved slowly out of the way. Fiona had the front door open. The bomb was attached to the chair, so Sam picked the whole thing up and sprinted out of the front door. Throwing the chair onto the lawn, he dived back through the door and Fiona slammed it shut just as there was a loud bang.

They all stayed huddled together for a moment, listening to the car and house alarms going off all along the street. Sam reached into his pocket. "I'm going to have to ring Callaghan tell him what's happened, and that I told Simon where to find Michael."

While Sam was on the phone, Fiona and Madeline went to the door. In the middle of her lawn Madeline now had a shallow hole about six feet wide, there was bits of broken chair little more than slivers lying on the lawn and pavement. In the distance they could already hear police sirens getting closer.

…...

Larry was very pleased with himself, everything was moving along nicely. The beauty of his plan was he had very little to do, everyone else just had to play their parts, and the very best bit was they all had no choice in the matter. It was a masterpiece of manipulation.

He switched off his police scanner after hearing about the explosion at Momma Westen's. That was a little unexpected, anybody who knew anything about Michael knew you stayed away from his mother, the girlfriend and the nurse maid Axe. Even he hadn't tried seriously to kill any of them. Still in his short acquaintance with Simon he had realized the man was deluded.

With a sigh he got to his feet, one of them would have told Simon where to find Michael, so he needed to get over to the hospital. It was one thing Simon had in his favour, watching the man work was never boring. Michael on the whole took things far too seriously, but at least he wasn't clinically insane. He headed down to the reception, he would have a valet deliver his car to the front door. He was excited to see what Simon did next.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter thirty two,

.

Larry was sat in the reception area of the hospital, pretending to read a newspaper. From his chosen vantage point he could watch the main entrance, the nearby bank of elevators and he could also see into the security office. While waiting he had spotted at least three undercover FBI agents, inexperienced fools probably on their first assignment it was insulting really.

He glanced at his watch, it had been nearly an hour since Simon's appearance at the Westen family home. Where was the man? Larry waited another hour, he couldn't stay where he was much longer without drawing attention to himself. Damn the man. He got to his feet folding up the newspaper and headed for the exit. It was the problem when working with an unstable mind you could not guarantee what they would do.

Disappointed Larry made his way towards where he had left his car, he still had time to check up on the intelligence he had gathered earlier. Special Agent Roberts had been very helpful after a little bit of coaxing. Larry grinned at the memory, the young fool hadn't noticed he was being followed when he left the hospital. Then to compound his folly he failed to shut his garage doors when he went home.

.

_It was cold and damp, an early morning mist rose up off the forest floor he could smell woodsmoke coming from a campfire up ahead. He had spent a miserable night, huddled down in his makeshift shelter, with no fire and only a couple of high energy bars and a canteen of water to keep him going. _

_Getting to his feet he stretched the kinks out of his limbs. He could hear voices being carried down the hill side, speaking in Russian. The men he had been trailing for the last two days were waking. He moved round getting a little closer, listening to them discuss what they planned to do with the money they were about to make. It was the same conversation they had been having for the last two days. _

_The sun breaking through the canopy of branches above his head, caused shadows to jump and play across his vision he squinted and raised a hand to shade his eyes checking he wasn't getting to close to the camp. A crack from a foot landing on a dry branch caused him to spin round.  
_

…...

Michael opened his eyes, it was dark, lights appeared to be dancing across the ceiling. He lay still, trying to work out what had happened. Turning his head slowly to the side, he could make out he was in a large room. The flashing lights which had caught his eye, orginated from a large TV screen. He could make out the blurred shapes of several people sat nearby, talking in low tones, their backs to him.

The lights were giving him a headache, it was all very confusing. His mouth felt dry, running his tongue over his lips he could feel they were cracked. He tried to speak but no sound came out.

"Michael, can you hear me?" A man lent over him, shining a penlight into his eyes. He tried to turn his head away, but he was held in place.

"Michael?" The light was removed and he assumed it was the same man asked. "Can you squeeze my fingers?"

"Wha – what happened?" He croaked, trying to close his hands round the fingers resting on his palms.

"You collapsed, try to squeeze my fingers." The Doctor waited a moment then let go of Michael's hands and wrote down a few lines in the file.

Michael felt a straw being pushed into the side of his mouth. "Sip, slowly." The water felt cooling and soothed his dry mouth. He began to choke and the straw was removed. "Slowly." Came the order, before it was replaced for a few more sips.

"Where?" Michael asked, he could feel himself slipping away again.

"Somewhere safe, I'm Doctor Cohen. How are you feeling?"

Michael's eyes had drifted shut, and he was already asleep. Doctor Cohen noted down that his patient's blood pressure, and pulse rate were both improving. He was also responding to stimuli which was another good sign.

He looked up as the door opened and five figures entered the room. Dr Cohen recognized the two agents who had been sent out to collect Michael's mother and friends. While the agents went over to give their reports, the Doctor motioned the other's over to his side. He spoke in a low voice, not wanting to disturb his patient.

"I'm Dr Cohen, Mr Westen collapsed on the way here. He is showing some improvement but it is important that he is kept calm and allowed to rest." He paused briefly, then continued. "With that in mind I don't think he should be told what occurred at your home earlier today."

"Can we stay with him?" Fiona asked.

"Just don't wake him up, and if he does wake up try to keep talking to a minimum. I can't stress how important it is that he rests. I believe, a couple of rooms have been put aside for you. I would suggest you get settled in and leave Mr Westen to rest until the morning."

...

Simon had left Momma Westen's taking Fiona's transport, he started off towards the hospital knowing Axe would sound the alarm as soon as they got Michael's mommy off the bomb he had placed under her chair. But he wasn't going there to find Michael, he just wanted to draw a certain aging, lying thief out of his hole. Playing with Michael's friends had just been a means to an end.

He waited patiently and was rewarded when he spotted Larry Sizemore leave the hospital at a fast walk. Now to follow the crafty old spy, get his list back and after extracting Michael's location, for he had no doubt Larry knew exactly where Michael was being held. He would then be merciful put him out of his misery. Long fingers tapped impatiently on the steering wheel, Larry was going to learn what happened when you took things that don't belong to you.

He kept his distance, as they travelled back over the causeway and through the city, heading towards the more upscale suburbs. Simon hummed to himself, the list, followed by Larry, then deliver Michael out of the clutches of their enemy. Once they had brought the old man known as Management to his knees, only then would he kill Michael and truly have his own life back.

Larry made a tour of some of the nicest properties Simon had seen in a very long time, all with private security. Before driving back to the city and to a four star hotel. Simon watched Larry leave his car with a valet and disappear inside. Time to make a start on that To do list.

…...

Daylight entering the room woke Michael up. He slowly brought his arm up to cover his eyes. He moved his hand slightly when he caught a glimpse of Fiona sat on a chair next to him.

"Hi." She smiled, one eye looking out for the Doctor.

He stared back at her, she could see him swallow then lick his lips. "Do you want a drink?" A glass of water with a straw had been left beside the bed. He took a few sips while she held the glass. His eyes closed and she thought he had gone back to sleep.

"Fi." She wasn't sure she heard him at first, his voice little more than a whisper. He swallowed and tried again. "Fi, what happened?"

"They've brought you somewhere safer than the hospital. You have to rest." She gently ran her fingers through his hair.

He was quiet for a while then his eyes opened again. "Fi?" She sat forward, so he could see her clearly. "I'm sorry." He murmured.

"Shh, you have to rest, if the Doctor comes over and we're talking he'll raise hell." His eyes closed again and this time he fell asleep.

Fiona sat with him for another hour, watching the guards who had been on duty over night head for the bedrooms recently vacated by the day shift. While she had been sat watching over Michael, she had also been surveying the men who were protecting them.

She remembered the drive onto the property, the lay out of the gardens and the positions of the rooms in the house. She was worried. Her experience told her Callaghan had gaps in his security, if she could see them, Larry or Simon would see the same thing and know how to exploit them.

When Sam woke up she was going to have words with him, he seemed to be able to speak Callaghan's language he might be able to get the man to change his security set up. She wished Michael was a bit stronger, if he was they could use those gaps to slip through and away.

Madeline was up now, she came over and lay a hand on Fiona's shoulder. "Why don't you go and freshen up dear and get some breakfast." She wondered if the younger woman had actually gotten any sleep.

Fiona nodded, and got to her feet, letting go of Michael's hand. "He hasn't stirred in an hour." She told Madeline. As Fiona walked away, Madeline settled herself down on the chair.

Michael woke to the smell of cooking and freshly brewed coffee, his stomach seemed to flip and knot he moaned in pain. He felt the familiar touch of his mother's hand on his forehead. "It's alright honey."

"How are you this morning?" Keeping his eyes shut he recognized Doctor Cohen's voice, coming from the other side of the bed.

"Fine." Michael mumbled, he opened his eyes when he felt the catheter being pulled from his arm.

"I want you to start eating, I'm going to sort out a light breakfast for you, and some juice." The Doctor helped Michael sit up, and then rearranged the pillows to give him support.

Michael let his eyes slide shut, he felt the warm comforting pull of apathy and began to doze off again.

"Mike, the Doc asked me what you normally have for breakfast, would you believe it they've got a couple blueberry yoghurts in the fridge." It was Sam doing his best to sound jolly. He felt a tray being placed over his lap and heard the noise of a spoon being dropped on to the tray. "There, I've even taken the lid off for you."

"Inna minute." He mumbled.

"Michael you're not going to get better unless you eat." The sound of his mother's voice woke him up, he hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep. His eyes opened, then slid shut again almost immediately.

"Aw give him a minute Maddy, he'll eat it when he's ready" Sam was sticking up for him, may be he would try and eat something soon.

Then came an annoyed hiss, and he felt a cold dollop of yoghurt being pressed against his lips. And a voice that would brook no argument. "Eat up Michael, stop being awkward."

He dutifully opened his mouth and sucked the yoghurt off the spoon. Another spoonful replaced the first within seconds. "I hope you don't expect me to feed you the whole thing, you're not a child."

He opened his eyes and took the spoon from Fiona's hand, he gave her a wreary smile and took the next spoonful himself.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter thirty three,

.

"_As a spy, when planning an ambush you don't normally have the benefit of a team. So there are several rules you need to apply for success. Find out what your prey wants. Be prepared to wait for the right opportunity. Make sure all escape routes are blocked. And when you do act, act fast and without mercy." _

_Larry remembered that very talk with a cocksure Special Forces soldier he had been ordered to assess during an easy assignment to neutralize an Ex Spetsnaz team trying to sell arms in Serbia. _

_Larry hated nurse maiding potential CIA field operatives, most had no idea what they were getting into, or they thought they already knew everything after taking part in the initial theory and practical tests. Armed Forces recruits could be some of the worse, over-trained already, and too ridgid in their thinking. _

_This recruit was younger than most, a kid. A kid he had been pleasantly surprised to find, who was open to making a slight change in the mission. Listened to what he was told, asked questions if he didn't understand and appeared to have a sharp mind. This recruit had potential.  
_

_"What would you say kid, if I told you we can take on two larger forces both better armed than we are, at the same time and win?"_

"_I'd say you're about to get us killed Larry." Came the dry reply._

"_Watch and learn kid, watch and learn."_

_Over the years he had seen Michael use a variety on the same strategy time and again to good effect._

Larry pulled his thoughts back to the present. He walked down the hotel corridor looking neither left or right, stopping at his room he walked inside confidently. Not even taking a quick backward glance. If he had, he would have seen Simon watching, using the reflection off a glass cabinet to see which room Larry entered.

…...

Callaghan had been up half the night, two more deaths, most likely victims of Larry Sizemore. Special Agent Alan Roberts and his wife. Found in their home tied to dining chairs sat facing each other. Mrs Roberts had a bullet wound to her leg, presumably done to make her husband talk. Then both had received bullets to the back of the head.

He had lain out all the photographs of all the known dead in this case. They were stacking up and the numbers were only going to get higher if he didn't find a way to end it all soon.

He got to his feet and made his way into the kitchen, the ex terrorist Fiona Glenanne was making a pot of tea. He was surprised when she gave him a pleasant smile. "Do you want a cup of tea?" She asked.

Callaghan returned the look. "Thank you miss.." He still wasn't quite sure how to deal with Fiona Glenanne.

"Call me Fiona." She got another cup down from the shelf in front of where she stood. "Milk? Sugar?"

"Both, two sugars. How's Michael today?" He thought he would try a bit of friendly chat.

"Quiet." She handed him his drink and lent back, her elbows resting on the kitchen counter. She took a sip of her tea watching him over the rim of the cup.

After a short uncomfortable silence, she seemed to come to a decision. "Would you be open to a little advice?" She asked.

"About what?"

"Take it from some one who has got in to all sorts of places they shouldn't have. You have some big gaps in your security."

He recognized an olive branch when he saw one. "Would you show me those gaps?"

She stood up, took a quick look at where Doctor Cohen was re dressing Michael's leg and then nodded. "You have a map, I'll show you what I see, and then you should ask Sam to take a look."

…...

Larry's hotel suite was in darkness, he lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling. Resting his head on his hands. He was on top of the covers, his shoes on his feet and his jacket hanging across the back of a nearby chair.

This was the part, where everything was beginning to come to together. All the different strands of the web were drawing tight. Where a misstep could see everything fall to pieces. This was the part he loved. Where you needed a plan A, B and C. Where some people get to live and others die. He shut his eyes, he loved this game he was never going to quit, he was too damn good.

The room was becoming light. He opened his eyes and swung his legs off the bed, he already had his gun in his hand. Opening the bedroom door he stepped into his lounge. He felt the hard prod of a gun pressing into the back of his skull.

"Hello Larry."

Larry stood still, his shoulders relaxed his arms clear of his body a smile spreading across his face. _Time to_ _go to work._

…...

Michael lay back, finally left alone. The Doctor had re dressed his thigh, the stitches looked clean, there had even been talk of letting him out of bed later, on crutches. All the activity in the morning had left him exhausted. He had eaten his first food since before the car bomb, he had been allowed to wash himself, have a shave, and he was no longer being ignored. This was the hardest part, the noise of the TV, no news or current affairs programmes allowed. He had already asked. And the amount of people walking about, it was a lot to take in.

He wasn't exactly clear on what had happened when he left the hospital. They kept telling him he had collapsed, and he needed to rest. In other words telling him to stop asking questions. It had to be Larry or Simon or maybe both of them were closing in on him. But why had Callaghan brought Sam, Fiona and his mother along as well.

They were all jumpy. Sam was being too positive, his laughter a little forced. Fiona was being more uptight, as if she was scared to relax, in case she gave something away. And his mother, well she was staying out of his way. If she wasn't hiding something she would be making the most of his incapacity to work on that mother, son bond she was always going on about.

As he lay thinking about it all, his eyes closed and he drifted back off to sleep. He was tired enough that he wasn't disturbed by his mother creeping up to his side and taking hold of his hand.

Madeline sat down at her son's bedside, holding his hand in both of hers. She rubbed her cheek against the back of his hand. She remembered him coming to her, explaining about the madman who had done the terrible things he was being blamed for, and how he had feared he was changing.

"You're nothing like him Michael. Don't let anybody tell you any different." She whispered, keeping hold of his hand she placed it gently back on the bed. Quickly wiping a hand over her eyes, she would stay with him until he woke up.

…...

"Take a seat Larry." Simon prodded the gun barrel hard into the back of his head, urging him to move forward.

"Oh that's all right son. I'll stand, if it's all the same to you." Larry took a step forward and then turned, his big toothy smile in place. The gun barrel was now between his eyes, his own gun hanging loosely in his hand.

"Drop the gun and kick it way." Simon was surprised when Larry obeyed, but it didn't make him relax.

Larry cocked his head slightly to one side, his eyes squinting as if concentrating on something. "Hey, have you got the new type hollow points in that?"

Simon smiled, not losing an ounce of his concentration. "You didn't expect that old trick to work did you?"

"Can't fault me for trying son." Larry shrugged, his arms dropping slightly.

Simon's eyes narrowed. "Stop calling me son."

"Sorry, but you're just so young and stupid." Larry chuckled at the change of expression coming over Simon's features. "And gullible." He finished his insult.

When he had shrugged he had dropped a knife into the palm of his hand from where he had it concealed against his arm, inside his shirt.

He lashed out, cutting a deep gouge out of Simon's right arm, causing the gun he held to drop. Larry followed up with an elbow to the younger man's throat, and as he began to fall, a hard kick to the calf muscle causing the leg to lock up.

"A nice try _son._ Better luck next time." With a final hard kick to Simon's forehead, knocking him out. Larry gathered the bag he had left under the sideboard near the door, and walked out.

He strode down the hotel corridor, a smile on his face. _"I'm just so damn good, it's down right scary at times."_ He got into the elevator and stared at his reflection straightening his shirt. He reached the ground floor and headed out on to the street.

…...

Simon came round, jumped to his feet and nearly fell over, his calf muscle still cramped up. Snarling in fury he limped round the suite looking for clues. The old fool had left his jacket behind, nothing there but a set of car keys.

Noticing the blood he was losing for the first time. He took the keys and he went to the bathroom ripping open his shirt sleeve to reveal the extent of his injury. The arm had been cut to the bone, cleaning it up Simon wrapped a towel around the wound, binding it tight. With a final scan of the room, he stormed out slamming the door shut on the blood splattered suite.

Next time he was just going to kill him on sight. He would find Michael by himself and get the thumb drive back as well. Besides that didn't matter, he had the original bible and code sipher. Larry Sizemore was going to be dead as soon as he set eyes on him.

He found Larry's car and after a thorough search of the outside in case it had been wired to blow. He opened it up. Bingo, stuffed under the passenger seat, plans of the house where Michael was being held and a diagram of the guards positions. He wasn't beat yet. Leaving the car unlocked he headed out towards where he had left his own transport.

Simon could not remember a time that he had felt as homicidal as he did right at that moment. All four of the tyres on the car he had taken off Fiona were slashed. Stuck to the windscreen a note. 'See you soon. Sonny.' Luv ya L

...

_"As a spy you sometimes have to deal with unstable minds. If they are working for a government or a cause it doesn't really matter if they are crazy or not. They have an agenda, you can work with that, you can use it to control the situation. _

_The lone crazy person, they are harder but not impossible to control. You just have to find a way to make them concentrate solely on what you want them to do.  
_

_Anger works really well. If you can get them angry enough, they will do whatever they can to get to you. Forgetting everything else. You can lead them anywhere you want.  
_

_Having an angry crazy person chasing you, is a bracing experience. One wrong step is all you get."_


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty four.

.

Michael opened his eyes, laying still he realized that for the first time, in what felt like a very long time. He had woken up feeling refreshed and alert. The pain in his chest was barely noticeable, and the headache which seemed to have been his constant companion had gone completely. It was a long time since he had felt this good, he let out a soft sigh.

A movement beside him made him turn his head, his mother was carefully sliding her hand out of his, and getting to her feet.

Catching hold of her hand, he hitched himself up slightly. "Hi. Where are you going?"

"Just for a smoke. I'll be back soon dear." She replied casually.

"Stay for a bit." He smiled, giving a flash of teeth. "Keep me company." He had managed to prop himself up, keeping hold of her hand.

"I just need to pop outside for a little while." She looked around. "Let me go find Fiona for you."

"You've hardly said a word to me all morning. What's going on?" He was sure now, they were hiding something from him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She gave him a bright smile, getting to her feet.

He pushed himself upright. His voice full of concern. "Please. Ma, something has happened and it's gotta be pretty bad if you won't tell me what it is." A sudden sharp pain in his chest reminded him, he was still injured.

Madeline had noticed the grimace he tried to hide. "Michael, stop being silly, nothing has happened. You need to get your rest. The Doctor says you mustn't get excited." She patted his arm and quickly stepped away.

He watched her walk away, taking a deep breath he let it out slowly. He did the same again, before lying back against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling. When he had woken up he had felt so much better, now he felt drained.

Frustration was setting in, there was obviously a lot going on and he was being kept in the dark. His heart was starting to beat faster as the same thoughts of being trapped, and loss of control which had started in the hospital began invade his mind again.

Squeezing his eyes shut he pinched the bridge of his nose, the headache that he had thought had finally gone was back. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, but he opened his eyes when his hand was pulled away from his face.

"Your mother said you were becoming distressed." Doctor Cohen commented, concentrating on checking Michael's pulse.

"I'm fine." Michael gave his standard reply, he was helped to sit up while the Doctor put a stethoscope against his chest and then to his back. With a bit of tutting, Doctor Cohen eased him back down and then started smoothing the skin on the back of Michael's hand looking for a vein.

"What's that?" Michael asked suspiciously. Spotting a syringe, he attempted to jerk his arm away.

"A sedative, you need your rest." The Doctor spoke in a matter of fact tone, tightening his grip on his patient's hand.

"No. No more drugs." Michael raised his voice, trying to sit up again.

"It is important you remain calm and relax." The Doctor was struggling to hold Michael's arm still.

"I'll be calm and relaxed if you tell me..." Came the retort. Cut off by a shout from the other side of the room.

"Doctor!" It was Callaghan, standing in the doorway to his office.

Doctor Cohen kept hold of his uncooperative patient, but looked across at where Callaghan stood. "Can I have a word with you please?" The Agent made it sound like a request, but it was obvious he meant it as an order.

"In a moment." The Doctor turned back to Michael.

"Now Doctor. He isn't going anywhere." Michael snatched his hand away as Doctor Cohen left his side, muttering angrily.

Callaghan had just got off the phone with Miami PD. A four star hotel at Miami beach had reported one of their maids had found a suite wrecked, and with blood on the floors and in the bathroom sink. The police had no idea whose blood, but finger prints came back to Sizemore. So it appeared somebody else had died and they just hadn't found the body yet.

The disturbance out in the lounge had brought him from his desk to the doorway. This had gone on long enough, if Westen was well enough to sit up and argue with his Doctor, he was well enough to answer some questions.

He was coming under pressure to get answers. Director Faye had told him if he wasn't getting anywhere with Westen he was to turn him over to the interrogation specialists as soon as he was strong enough. Callaghan knew as soon as that happened he would lose the whole assignment.

"I'm very busy Agent Callaghan." The Doctor snapped.

"What's up with him now?" Callaghan asked.

"He's becoming agitated again, I'm worried it will lead to another collapse."

"No more sedatives. I want to question him after lunch." He raised a hand, cutting the Doctor's next words off. "No more sedatives. If he won't settle down, handcuff him to the bed." He turned back to sorting through the papers on his desk. After a moment the Doctor took the hint and walked back to his patient.

Michael watched the Doctor walk back over, with a face like thunder. "No sedatives. Mr Westen, but until lunch time I want you to remain quiet and rest. No more visitors." He delivered the news, and then walked off heading to his room.

…...

Sam had been working with the commander of the tactical team, going through the security set up. Explaining what he knew of Larry's tactics and the most likely ways he would try and breach the property. He didn't say it to the commander, but what they really needed was Michael's knowledge. It was never a comfortable thought, but Michael was trained by Larry. He knew the man better than anybody else.

He came back to the house and found Madeline and Fiona sat outside. Fiona was sitting astride a wooden bench, facing Madeline who sat with her elbows resting on the wooden table before her.

"I don't have a medical degree, but it just seems a little strange to me that's all." Madeline was saying as he walked up on the two women.

"What's up Maddy?" He asked, taking a seat, on the other side of the table.

"That Doctor." Madeline flicked ash onto the ground. "I don't like him, he's just told Fiona she can't visit with Michael now, because he needs to rest."

"Well Mike was pretty bad when they got him here." Sam answered. "He's going to have to take it easy for some time."

"I know that Sam." She glared at him. "But why is he saying he wants Michael to rest, and then telling him he might let him up later on crutches?"

"And he's dropped the oxygen support right down as well." Fiona added.

Sam raised an eyebrow at this bit of news. It sounded like Doctor Cohen was trying to prepare Michael for another move. Everybody was so wrapped up in what Simon and Larry were up to, the Doctor's behaviour had been ignored. Except by Madeline.

"What could he be up to?" Madeline asked. "Do you think he's trying to hurt ..." Looking back through the window at her son's profile as he watched the TV.

"No, Mike's improved there's no doubt about that." Sam spoke up quickly. "But I can think of a couple of other things. Cohen might be under pressure to get Mikey fit enough to answer questions, or and this is the scary bit Cohen could be working for somebody else and getting him ready for an extraction."

"Cohen was brought in by the Feds, how could he be working for, who are you thinking of? Larry?" Fiona got to her feet.

"Take it easy, I don't think Mike's in any immediate danger. Callaghan seems to be ready to dig in here, and we know Larry is coming any way. Let's just keep a closer eye on Doc Cohen." Fiona sat back down at Sam's words.

"Madeline it's nothing to worry about honestly. We're surrounded by armed guards. I doubt there is anywhere safer at the the moment." He tried to quell the older woman's fears.

…...

After lunch Michael had to submit to another check on his pulse, blood pressure and breathing. Afterwards though he was pleasantly surprised when he was given a set of crutches. "You can get up and get used to using them." Doctor Cohen informed him. "But you can only go as far as the oxygen line will let you."

Michael made it as far as one of the large sofa's, a journey of fifteen slow torturous hops. He was out of breath and sweating from the exertion. But he was also pleased, it was a little bit of extra freedom. He would take whatever he could get at the moment.

He hadn't been sat down long when Callaghan appeared and the other people in the room seemed fade away. Finding other things to do. The TV was switched off.

"Time for a talk?" Michael inquired, shifting himself round on the seat to face the man.

"Time for a talk." Callaghan agreed sitting down.

The two men stared at each other, finally Callaghan spoke. "With your burn notice being discredited, I've taken another look at your file. You were an exceptional agent, well respected and there were a lot of people quite high up the chain who wanted you back in." He paused, Michael remained quiet. After all what could he reply to that.

Callaghan threw a series of photos on to the seat next to Michael. "This is what's stopping that happening. Machado, Brennan, Mr Haas husband and father of two, he was driving the car stolen at the scene of the original crash, and Ms Barrie left a five year old daughter, that was the lady whose car was taken from a car park on the same day." He identified the person on each photo, watching Michael pull the photos apart, glancing at each, his expression unreadable.

"This man was found in his garage by his elderly mother at his home." Callaghan started to add another, then some more. " A computer programmer Clyde Waverley, found in Miami. Vaughn of course and several of his men, though we believe they were killed by your friends."

Four more photos joined the pile. "These we believe are Simon's. Oh that doesn't include the general's driver and the fourteen people who died when he blew up a hotel just to kill one man." Then came two more, a man and a woman. "Another agent and his wife. Murdered yesterday in their home"

Callaghan paused for a moment. "More than thirty deaths in just over two weeks, and nearly as many wounded, all to do with that NOC list. You have to make a choice. You can either help put a stop to it. Or sit back and let the body count rise."

He got to his feet, this was a gamble. The Michael Westen who Sam Axe and Jesse Porter spoke about would want to help. He thought he saw a glimpse of that Westen when he had spoken to him at the hospital when he mentioned the four dead FBI agents. Westen was still looking at all the different faces, his own features expressionless.

Michael was truly shocked at the body count, but he hid it well. It was a lot to take in. If Larry was going to do what he thought 'remember Solokov' meant, there was going to be a lot more bodies very soon. A high death rate was a by product of working with Larry, he knew that. He wondered, not only if he could get used to it again, but did he want to.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter thirty five,

.

So many dead. He had been so wrapped up in his own problems he hadn't given a thought to what was happening around him. Both Fiona and Sam had tried to tell him, but he had refused to listen. He remembered how pigheaded he'd been about it, how he had dismissed their advice and then when Fiona had been about to break through his resolve, he had lied to her face.

"_Collateral damage kid, these things happen. Some people live, some people die. It's the way of the world. You've just got to make sure you're one of the ones who live. Forget about the rest." _Larry's little speech after two of their assets were caught, charged with espionage and later executed. He hadn't realized until now how easily had he slipped back to an old way of thinking.

The photographs Callaghan had handed him bore evidence to the damage he, Larry and Simon had caused. All of them too busy thinking about their own objectives that nothing else mattered. He closed his eyes, letting his head slide back. He really wasn't any different to them.

"You want to know about Solokov?" He asked, bringing his head back up and looking directly at Callaghan.

"It'd be a start." Callaghan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His gamble had paid off Westen hadn't completely lost his humanity. He waved over another agent. If Westen was about to spill the beans, it needed to be recorded. "Just give me a minute to set up." He noticed both Sam Axe and Fiona Glenanne had slipped back into the room as well. Callaghan nodded to them, acknowledging their presence. If they stayed in the background and didn't interfere, they could stay.

"So, who or what is Solokov?" Callaghan asked once he was ready.

"Alexei Solokov was a cover name Larry used the first time we worked together. He was my training officer. There was intel that a group of Russian ex special forces were going into the arms dealing business in the Balkans. Our assignment was to find the Russians and their weapons cache and neutralize both. We found the Russians, Larry went in as Solokov a go between for a Serbian group with money for weapons." He paused, looking round the room, realizing Fiona and Sam were sat at the back listening to every word.

"Larry told me he wanted to teach me a lesson. So instead of blowing up the warehouse like we were supposed to, Larry led the Russians up into the foothills. I followed along as his back up. For two days I listened to him fill their heads with stories about this Serbian warlord called Dragamir and what he did to his enemies. Then he left, saying he was going to collect Dragamir and bring him down to complete the gun deal. So I stayed behind and watched over them, making sure they didn't stray while he disappeared." Michael paused again, wondering how much he should tell them. He glanced down, his eyes settling on the photographs. _Damn it._ He gathered them up and turned them face down.

"When he came back I don't know what he'd done, but he had a whole load of angry Serbs on his tail." As he spoke about what had happened that evening in the foothills of the Balkan mountains, he could remember the excitement he had felt at the time.

_Ten foot up a tree, lying flat on a thick sturdy branch invisible to anyone on the ground. He had peered down the barrel of his assault rifle. This was an easy job for him, he had trained as a sniper before being approached by the CIA. As soon as Larry burst into sight, shouting in Russian about an attack. He lined up a shot to come passed Larry and into the camp._

_The warning shouts and then the shots brought the highly trained men out and their own weapons to bare. Once one of their number went down, the fire fight truly started. Larry had somehow dodged undercover, while he had stayed safely up his tree. Larry was right, they killed each other and all they had to do was finish off the wounded.  
_

_"You can't leave anyone alive kid, it's bad tradecraft. Compassion will slow you down, it leaves you open to revenge and it's a waste of time." Larry had explained to him as they had walked back into the camp together.  
_

Michael finished his tale. "I opened fire from my hiding spot, making the Russians think they were under attack. And that was all that what was necessary. To cut a long story short, the two sides took each other out and we got the guns." Looking from one to the other, his gaze lingered on Fiona a little longer than the rest. He had only ever told her the barest details of his time with Larry.

Sam looked away, it was scary to think about what type of man Michael might have become if his little partnership with Larry hadn't been shut down.

"So what, the two of you took on how many?" Callaghan couldn't help himself.

"In total I think it was about twenty men. But they took out each other, we only had to deal with the survivors. I think that was the rest of Larry's test. He wanted to see if I could kill in cold blood."

_It was the first time he took part in what he could only describe as a series of executions. Killing in cold blood, up close and personal. Placing his handgun against the back of a wounded man's head. With Larry standing over him. One shot, he remembered blood had splattered up onto his hand and lower arm. "Well done kid. I'm going to give you a top marks on your assessment. You'll definitely have a place in the field."_ _Had been Larry's cheery show of approval._

"And you, I take it passed with flying colours?" Callaghan asked the question, but Michael couldn't take his eyes off Fiona.

"I got Larry's recommendation to continue on the programme." He admitted. "You wanted to know what you were going to be up against. Larry has been in the business for over thirty years, there is probably no one else quite like him."

"Except you."

"Me?" Michael shook his head giving a short laugh.

"So you think Simon will attack, and only after we've finished trying to kill each other will Larry step in?"

"If I'm right, and he's not just sent that message as a bluff, knowing that I'd tell you his plan." Michael shrugged his shoulders. "That's the thing with Larry. You never know."

"And what about the cause of all this, the NOC list. Where's that been hidden?"

Michael was tired, hadn't he given them enough for now. He felt his friend's eyes on him without looking over to where they sat. One part of him argued that it was his only piece of leverage, but another part reminded him of his promise to Fiona. He was about to speak, but was interrupted.

"Michael. What do you have to think about?" Fiona snapped, shaking Sam's restraining hand off her arm. She got to her feet. She shot a death glare at Callaghan, daring him to interfere. Before turning all her attention on Michael.

She paced in front of him. "I know you have your issues, god knows we've all heard about how these people ruined your life. And then there was the whole, you were doing it for Jesse. Well guess what? Jesse is back in, and it's not them ruining your life any more. It's you. You're doing it all by yourself."

He went to speak again, but she waved her hand in his face, she was on a roll now. "You have a good life Michael. Or rather you had a good life, maybe not exactly the one you want. But hey, do you think the rest of us enjoy chasing you around. Dropping whatever we're doing at a moments notice."

"Fi I..."

"No Michael, you listen to me. Look at what has happened doing things your way. You're a mess, you nearly died, and your Mother ended up sitting on a bomb."

"What?" The word echoed around the room. "What did you just say?" Michael demanded. He was sat forward, his breath coming in short sharp gasps. She couldn't remember ever having seen such an angry expression on his face before.

"Simon was at Madeline's, he put a bomb under her chair to make us talk." She told him her voice soft, all the anger had gone. She hadn't meant to blurt out that piece of news.

He froze in place, he hadn't been there, it was all his fault. His actions had nearly got his mother killed. Fiona had a hand on either side of his face she stared into his eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you like that. What happened wasn't your fault."

"What happened?" He asked, she could feel the tension building up in his body.

"Simon was looking for you. He threatened Madeline, to make us tell him where you were. But you've seen her, she's safe."

"And why didn't you tell me?" He gripped her wrists, pulling her hands away from his face.

"We thought you were too sick, to be told." He noticed her quick glance at the Doctor who was hovering nearby.

"You know it wasn't your fault?" She wanted to hear him say it.

"That's not what you said a minute ago." He replied. _Simon nearly killed his Mother._

"I was angry, I didn't mean it. You can't be responsible for the actions of a mad man. You understand that don't you?" She was becoming more worried, she could feel his hands trembling as they still held on to her wrists. Up close she could hear his increased breaths.

"It's ok Fi, I understand." He muttered, sinking back onto the sofa. He let go of her arms. _Simon nearly killed his Mother._ It was all he could think about._  
_

Doctor Cohen was now at their side. "He needs to be back in bed. Let's have some help getting him there."

"I'm fine." He shook Cohen's hand away. _Simon nearly killed his Mother. He needed a gun.  
_

Sam pushed Cohen out of the way. "I'll help him." He announced, Michael had gone very pale but he still wasn't being particularly helpful. Sam managed to get him up and over to the bed.

Once back in bed Michael stopped telling everyone he was fine and not long after his head hit the pillow he fell asleep. His breathing settled down quickly and his complexion started to return to normal. Doctor Cohen was well aware he was being kept under close scrutiny.

"You have a problem with me?" He asked Sam.

"Mike's my best friend, I'm just a little concerned that's all." Sam took the offered medical records, Cohen held out.

"You'll see there, nothing untoward." He knew Sam had some medical training, he let him glance over the file and then took it back. "Satisfied?"

"Sure Doc, but if it's all the same to you I'll just stay here. I won't disturb him." He gave the Doctor his most sincere expression. "Promise."

"Fine." Cohen replied shortly turning his attention back to his patients notes. Sam settled back in his chair and watched Michael sleep.

…...

Larry sat in his car, the receiver to the bugs planted around the FBI safe house picking up the whole conversation. Michael had done what he hoped he would do, the Feds were now all keyed up for Simon's assault on the property.

Then Michael's little gun runner girlfriend broke the news about the attack on Momma Westen's. He gave a wolfish smile, this was even better than his own plan. If he could get Simon in to the house, Michael would kill him now without hesitation.

With a bit of luck all the death and destruction would completely sever any remaining hope Michael had left of getting out of this affair clean. He switched off the receiver, this part of his plan was going even better than he had hoped for, now he just needed to make sure the rest did the same. Time to check the tracker he put on the property details he'd left for Simon to find.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter thirty six,

.

Callaghan placed the phone back on to the desk. He had hoped to get through to Director Faye personally, instead had got put on to one of his assistants. He was told the director was busy in meetings all day and could not be contacted.

This assistant however turned out to be very helpful, he had got hold of the Doctors file while they were talking. All his credentials were in order, and he had a photo of the Doctor e-mailed over for Callaghan to confirm the identity. Satisfied on that point he had moved on to give his report on his interview with Westen.

An extra tac team would be put on alert, police patrols would be increased in the near by area. The assistant promised. Callaghan didn't like the idea of being used as bait, but from what Westen had said the attack was going to happen any way. It was the best way to capture both killers, turn Larry Sizemore's plan against him. Faye's assistant assured him his report would be passed on to the director as soon as he was available.

He had kept quiet about allowing Westen's friends to sit in on the interview, and how it had ended because of Fiona Glenanne's outburst. He just had to hope Westen still felt like being cooperative when he woke up. All in all he thought the day had gone well.

He would worry about how much more he would get out of Westen later. Getting to his feet he stretched, it had been a long day, now he was going to push it all to the back of his mind and get a shower, a change of clothes and then see what there was for dinner.

…...

Larry sat at an outside table at a beach side diner. The sky was darkening, the wind picking up cooling and refreshing the normally humid atmosphere. He listened to the waves crashing onto the beach, and far out at sea he watched a flash of lightning momentarily light up the scene. It was going to be a stormy night, ideal for what he hoped was going to happen. He glared at his phone, he hated working with other people. Waiting on other people's reports, relying on their interpretation of events.

Finally the phone rang, and he snatched it up. "I hope this is good news." He said.

"Trackers dead, Larry. My guess is he found it." The voice at the other end of the phone was flat and unemotional.

Larry's hand tightened around his phone, knuckles turning white. He would not get mad.

"But, I just got off the phone with Callaghan. The guy has no idea what's going on. Let me know when you want me to cut the phone lines and set up the jammers." He had worked with Larry before, just skim over the bad news, keep him on task and if he didn't kill you, you got to look forward to a really big pay day.

"Expect a call in the next couple of hours. Don't let me down on this Jerry."

"As soon as you call, it'll be done." Good old Larry, he just had to put in a threat. Jerry finished the call.

Larry tapped the table running through his options. Simon was on the move. He got to his feet leaving enough money to pay his bill. This was it, decision time. He had to make an educated guess on what Simon was up to.

…...

Michael's eyes snapped open, he was instantly alert. He stayed perfectly still, Simon had nearly killed his mother. He needed a gun, he needed Fiona, she would understand, and more importantly she would get him what he needed. Something lethal with plenty of ammunition.

"Hey, you've finally woken up. The Doc's been getting worried. Fi and your mom have been giving him the evil eye every time he's come near you." Sam came into view, moving his chair closer to the bed.

Michael pushed himself upright, and rested his back against the headboard. "How long was I out for?" He asked rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"About four hours, it's just gone six now. Want me to see what's for dinner?"

"Sure, where's my mom?" He needed to see her first, he needed to see for himself that she was all right and forgave him.

Sam pushed his chair back. "I'll go tell her you're awake."

While he waited, Michael looked around the room. They were getting ready for a fight, the few men in the room were wearing bullet proof vests and carrying rifles. The shutters were down over the windows and the lights were on a low setting. There was a subtle atmosphere, he recognized it they were keyed up for a fight. It struck him that this was what Larry had done to that Spetsnaz team all those years ago. This time though he had done it, all it needed now was a spark to start a fire fight.

He blocked those thoughts as he saw his mother coming over, _he had nearly got her killed._ Doing his best to relax, he smiled and accepted her hug returning the pressure. He had nearly lost her, he buried his head against her shoulder. "I'm sorry." He mumbled into her ear. The smell of tobacco and cheap perfume was strangely comforting.

She let him stay there, his face hidden while he gathered himself. Releasing him when she felt him begin to stiffen and pull away. He wiped a hand across his face, and then looked at her. "Mom, I." He swallowed unsure what to say to her.

"Michael I'm fine, it was scary but Sam and Fiona were there. They wouldn't let anything happen to me." She tried to reassure him, she was reminded sharply of how he used to look at her as a child. After she had been on the receiving end of one of Franks moods and he hadn't been able to protect her.

"You should have told me." He held her hand.

"It wouldn't have made any difference, it was over with and you needed to rest." She ran her free hand over his cheek. She was still getting chills over what had happened and dreaded going to sleep. But she had no intention of telling her son that.

"Here we go Mikey." Sam came back over a bowl of soup and a couple of slices of bread on a plate all on a tray he held out. "Doctor's orders, vegetable soup and bread and butter." He placed the tray on his friend's lap. Then took a seat on the other side of the bed.

"Where's Fi?" Michael asked as he sipped some of the soup off his spoon.

"Out patrolling the grounds, she was a little upset over blurting out." He paused not really wanting to bring the subject up himself. "You know... She offered to go and get some C4, and set up some trip wires but Callaghan put his foot down." Michael winced, glad he had been unconscious. Fiona dealt with stress by blowing stuff up. It was a brave man who denied her, her stress busting technique.

He pushed the bowl away when it was half empty. "I'm full, honest." He commented watching their expressions. Neither Sam or Madeline looked like they believed him.

"It's ok Mike we're not going to force feed you." Sam laughed. He took the tray off his friend's lap and went to take it back to the kitchen. "You want a drink or anything else?" Michael shook his head, his eyes on the door and to where Fiona was walking back inside.

Madeline looked between the two of them. "You two need to talk. Try and keep it civilized." She planted a kiss on his cheek and got to her feet joining Sam in the kitchen.

She looked him over, he still looked tired and he was losing weight the injuries drawing on all his reserves trying to heal. But over all he was looking better. She had been relieved when his breathing had returned to normal so quickly earlier on. She hadn't meant to shock him the way she did. The whole situation was just so frustrating, every time she thought he was coming back to her, he pulled away at the last moment. It was as if he just couldn't face giving up that damn list. She made an effort to calm down, just thinking about it brought the anger back to the surface.

He smiled at her, and as she sat down he reached for her hand. He realized now what he was putting them all through, and he was amazed they hadn't deserted him. He wondered what he had done to earn such loyalty. Even after all this time it was something he couldn't get use to. He always imagined that at some point they would have enough of the way he treated them and he'd find he was alone.

He went to tell her he was sorry, but stopped himself. She must be getting sick of hearing him say those words. Instead he said. "Sam said you've been out helping the tac team?"

"Yes." She sat down, letting him hold her hand, his thumb gently circling above her wrist. "They've got it pretty well covered out there. You've spoken to your mother?" Her words came out a little stilted, unsure how he felt about her earlier outburst.

"Yeah, she says she's ok, but I don't know. Thank you for being there for her. I don't know what.." He stopped and gave a little shrug.

She understood. Nodding her head she relaxed slightly, her free hand coming up to cup his cheek. "And you. Are you all right now?"

"I'm fine Fi, honest. It's a relief really, knowing what's been going on. I knew something had happened, that was worse not knowing what it was." He lent his head into her hand, moving slightly so her fingers brushed into his hair. "Fi, I need you to get me a gun." He spoke quietly, watching her expression out of the corner of his eye.

Her hand dropped away. "I don't have one on me." She told him her tone flat. "And if I did, I wouldn't give you one at the moment. You're on oxygen Michael, do you think firing a gun around enriched oxygen is a good idea?"

He removed the nasal cannulas, pulling the tubing from behind his ears and dropping it onto the floor. "Problem solved." He announced, now fixing her squarely with a stare.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh that's sensible. But it's not going to get me to put a gun in your hand."

"Simon or Larry could break in here at any time. Do you want me to be helpless?" He reasoned

"Callaghan has already said he'll arm me and Sam if an attack comes." She could understand why he wanted a gun. The argument was only half hearted, she didn't trust the FBI to protect them either. "If you behave I'll see what I can do." She picked up his Oxygen line and fitted it back in place. "Until then you keep that on."

He caught hold of her hand, turned it over and kissed her palm. "Don't take to long." He smiled, while pointedly looking at the armed men around them.

…..

It was dusk, neither completely dark or light. The increasing wind was causing the trees and bushes to rustle, the first drops of rain promising a miserable night for those outside. The sentries had just been changed over, spread out around the perimeter their patrols just covering the areas not under surveillance by cameras. The guard had failed to notice the shape lying under a nearby bush, he failed to notice the figure rise up and move swiftly behind him. The first he knew was when a hand snaked around his neck and over his mouth. It was too late then because a knife had already entered his left kidney, before it was removed and sunk into his right side. His body was dropped quietly to the ground and almost gently placed under the very bush his attacker had come from.

After a scan of the area the figure dressed all in black moved on, he now wore his first victims comm, nobody was aware of his presence. So far so good. Blood dripped off the knife blade as he flitted through the undergrowth, another sentry already in his sight.

…...

Doctor Cohen stood in front of his wardrobe, looking at his reflection in the full length mirror. He picked up a clean shirt and slipped it on over the top of his bullet proof vest. After doing up all the buttons, and tucking the shirt inside his pants. He turned to pick up a snub nosed .22 handgun from his dressing table, lifting his leg onto a stool he fitted the gun into an ankle holster. Standing up straight he jiggled his pants, checking in the mirror he was satisfied that neither the vest or gun was visible. Humming a little tune he opened up the bag of medical supplies and filled a couple of syringes, capping the needles he dropped them into the inside pocket of his jacket.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up his phone. "I'm ready." He said when the call was answered. He closed the phone without waiting for a reply. Slipping into his jacket he took one final look in the mirror. When this job was over he was planning a long holiday, abroad most likely Europe.

As he stepped out of his room the power went out. He paused for a moment, ignoring the shouts coming from the other men in the house. A loud crashing bang outside brought a nervous smile to his face, then a second explosion followed and he moved forward, towards his patient.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter thirty seven,

_When breaching a heavily guarded property you need a distraction. A large explosion blowing a hole through the perimeter wall will get their attention. The more spectacular the better. Cutting the power limits their vision and sabotaging their means of communication adds to the general confusion. Soldiers work as a team, cut them off from that support they become vulnerable, easy targets if you know what you're doing._

_.  
_

It had taken Jerry the whole of the previous night to set up his equipment. Tapping the phone lines, hacking the computers, gaining access to the power generators and wiring them to blow. Had all taken time.

He had spent the day listening to the bugs planted throughout most of the house. Dealing with any calls that were trying to get through to the house._ 'I'm sorry Agent Callaghan is too busy to come to the phone. I can pass on any message you have for him. Yes he is busy with the prisoner, I'm sure he'll have news soon.'_ Then there was Callaghan's call out, he had quite enjoyed playing director Fayes very helpful assistant.

His last call once he knew it would happening tonight was to the local police, informing them of a training exercise taking place, in case they got any calls about explosions and gunfire. Hopefully it would be enough to keep outside forces away.

Finally though he had got the go ahead, and he started flicking switches. With the power cut, and the cell jammers working at full strength. Jerry waited for Larry's bombmaker to do his job. The explosions were what he expected, loud and messy. After the second boom, he hit a button that sent feedback through the communication system.

His job was done, quickly he began packing away his equipment. He had a flight to Rome booked to take off in four hours. Time to go home and pick up his cases before going to the airport. He didn't want to be in the country when all this came to light.

...

The power went out, for those outside it meant the flood lights were gone. The commander spoke into his comm. "The lights are out, out here." He got no further with his report, as his body automatically dropped into a half crouch as part of the perimeter wall disappeared with a deafening bang. Lumps of concrete flew out in all directions. "We're under attack!" He shouted into the tiny microphone, then straightened up to join his men, rifle at the ready.

A second explosion came less than a minute later, a different section of wall came down just out of sight of the first breach, _how many men were they about to face. _The commander had no choice but to split his forces leaving three of his men to guard the first breach he was about to send more to the second when the loud screech of feedback came through the ear pieces. The defenders ripped the ear pieces out.

Then to add to the confusion, the rain that had been threatening to come down for the last hour now arrived. A heavy down pour, the rain bouncing off the ground. The noise making communication even harder and the sheer amount of water making it impossible to see more than ten feet in front of you.

…...

The flood lights went out, Simon froze in place a body held tight in front of him. He ignored the man's death throes only removing the knife from the man's belly when the first explosion rocked the ground. Throwing the still twitching body away from him, Simon dropped the knife onto the floor and picked up the dead guards rifle. _No need to be stealthy any more._

The second explosion didn't faze him in the least, not even bothering to hide any more. Simon stepped out confidently. They were looking for the attack to come from outside, the first three men he came across went down in a hail of bullets not even given time to register what had happened. Once the men were down, Simon approached each one in turn, putting a bullet into the head of the fallen men.

_Body armour, keeps you alive if you're hit in the body. But the shock still puts you down. Leaves you helpless for a few minutes._

The rain was coming down hard now giving him even more cover. God was definitely on his side. Aiding his efforts, sending him forward at greater speed. With a bit of his God given luck, Larry would step into his path sooner rather than later. A flash of lightening, followed almost instantly by a clap of thunder, Simon saw two more men coming towards him. He laughed looking up at the sky. _Thank you. _He mouthed the words and then turned the rifle on the approaching men.

_It was_ _one of the best things about working on your own. Everyone who came near you was an enemy, there was no such thing as friendly fire._

…...

The power went out. Everyone in the house froze for a moment. "Positions, the emergency gen.." Callaghan's voice was drowned out by a large explosion, the floor shook, and the metal shutters rattled.

Michael grabbed at Fiona's arm. "My mom." Fiona was already on her feet.

"Madeline!" She shouted and darted towards the kitchen. The sound of another explosion, had everyone inside the house heading to their posts interior doors were slammed shut and locked, then they moved into position guarding the outer doors.

"Phones are out." Came another shout. Michael looked to where Fiona was pulling his mother towards one of the bathrooms. He could just make out Callaghan's men all stiffen and then rip out their ear pieces.

"They've got into the comm system as well." Came the unnecessary bit of news.

Carefully Michael swung his legs out of the bed, he took a couple of deep breaths preparing for the next move. Slowly he lowered his legs onto the floor, taking all his weight through his arms he did his best to ignore the pain building in his chest. He was upright standing on his own, his chest felt tight he fought to keep his breathing steady. It distracted him slightly from the pain shooting through his leg. If he was going to move he had no choice, the crutches were out of his reach. Pulling the tubing from round his face, he dropped it onto the floor as he prepared himself to walk unaided.

He flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder Doctor Cohen was beside him. "Wait a minute." The doctor switched off the oxygen at the cannister, and then handed him his crutches. "You should stay in bed."

"Not a chance." Michael replied, already moving away. Fiona was coming out of Callaghan's office carrying a rifle. Hopefully she had something for him.

"Over to the sofa, no further you may think you're feeling better but you're not as well as you think." Cohen was moving the pressurize cannisters out of the way. Reaching the sofa, Michael flopped down as Fiona reached his side. There was the sound of more gunfire out side.

"Michael?" She gave him a questioning look, her face close to his. "Are you ok?"

"What have you got me?" He ignored her question.

She handed him a hand gun and two spare clips. "A H and K, it's loaded, and the safety is off."

"My mom?"

"In the bathroom just like we said, she locked the door when I left and has promised to stay in there until one of us tells her it's safe to come out."

He nodded, she was as safe as they could make it for her. He held the gun loosely in his hand. The doctor was right, he wasn't as strong as he thought he was. All the shooting had stopped, the only sound the rain hitting the shutters.

…...

_While the sentries are being distracted by a few well placed devices it is easy to slip in through a now unguarded part of the defences. Knowing what you are walking into is a big help, preparation is essential._

Larry timed a third explosion to fit in with the strike of lightening and roll of thunder. This one wasn't a distraction, this was a quiet entry in a corner faraway from where all the action was taking place. He wasn't positive about what Simon was up to, but he was sure the man was around somewhere, trying to take down as many of the sentries as he could as quietly as he could. Hopefully he was running into some heavily armed, very nervous guards about now.

Once inside the perimeter, Larry stepped carefully over the rubble he had created and moved towards the house. He was dressed all in black, including a bullet proof vest. A rifle hanging by it's strap on one shoulder, a handgun on his hip were the only visible weapons, he carried a case in one hand and a rucksack on his back.

As expected he remained unnoticed, he smiled when he heard a burst of automatic fire. _Ah there was Simon. _Then three individual shots. _With a bit of luck Simon would save him the problem of having to clear a path out._ Reaching the house Larry crouched down partially hidden by some bushes in case anybody came out side.

Placing the case he carried onto the ground he opened it and pulled out a thermal imaging camera. Holding the camera up he checked on the position of the men in the house. He counted eleven bodies by the doors, they would be ten Fed's plus Callaghan. It would be Michael sat on a sofa, Fiona next to him. The figure hunched in the corner of a bathroom, that would be Michael's mom. The man wheeling tall cylinders around placing them up against various walls, that was his associate. Some one was missing, he checked again, satisfied Axe had to be among the main group of men watching the doors.

Putting the camera away and sliding the case under the bush he started moving around the outside of the building. He spotted what he was looking for, a small piece of cloth hanging out under a metal security shutter. Using a knife blade he eased the shutter open, underneath he discovered the window had not been locked. With a smile he climbed inside the house, pulling the shutter, then the window shut behind him.

Putting his ear to the door he listened carefully, he hadn't been heard. Slipping the rucksack he carried off his shoulders he started to prepare for the party to start.

...

Simon looked around, the plans he had stolen off Larry had shown that there should be ten men outside. He ran through the numbers in his head seven, three left. They could have been killed or injured by the falling debris. He looked towards the house, Larry would be in there by now. He looked back towards the perimeter. There was possibly three men out there stalking him, but Larry was close by and he really wanted to kill Larry. With an angry shake of his head he turned his attention to the three men left.

_When you worked alone you have no one to watch your back._ _If you are worried about whose behind you, you're not going to be concentrating on what's facing you. _

He moved quickly ignoring the rain, one more search of the area then he was going after Larry. A quick check of the rifle in his hand told him it was nearly empty. Discarding it, he picked up two from the bodies lying at his feet.

…...

As he moved the cylinders around the doctor kept watch on where Callaghan was placing his forces. So far nobody was questioning what he was up to, they were all to busy and the low level emergency lights made it easy for him to place the cylinders where they would do most good.

Westen's mother had been put in the bathroom, he had heard the click of the door being locked. The Glenanne woman had done just what Larry told him she would. She had armed herself then handed Westen a handgun. It had saved him a job, now he just had to make sure Westen did as he was told.

With the cylinders in place he carefully unlocked his bedroom door, it had been checked once, nobody would suspect he had unlocked it. It was time to move on with the plan, unbuttoning his jacket he moved towards Westen, the poor man was looking exhausted and in pain.

.

A/N: I know the story hasn't really moved on that much but I have to get Simon and Larry in place some how. I'm already writing the next chapter so hopefully I'll post that tomorrow.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter thirty eight,

.

Simon made one more pass of the entire site, becoming more frustrated by the minute. He couldn't find the three missing sentries. With a growl and curse he started back towards where he had made his own entry. To the spot where he had waited to ambush the first sentry, it was where he had left his own supplies. Larry had to be inside the house by now. He couldn't hold off any longer, regardless of the risk he was not going to let the opportunity pass.

Pulling a black waterproof holdall from the undergrowth, he jogged over to the house. Crouching down he looked the building over, it still looked secure and peaceful. They were being careful, not sending out support to those outside.

Leaving the bag he circled the house, surveying it from all angles. If Larry was in there he must have had help to get in. He couldn't find a single sign of a breach.

He went back to the holdall and got out a bug and an earpiece. Carefully approaching one of the walls he held the bug against the structure. He tried several different spots, it wasn't ideal but he had picked up enough to make a good guess where the majority of defenders were standing.

Before he set foot in that house he wanted as many of the people inside injured or preferably dead as possible. He worked quickly wiring up detonator caps to the two bricks of C4 he had brought with him. He had already discovered a cell jammer had been activated so instead of using a remote controlled switch, he took more wires to run from the detonators to a manual trigger switch. Setting the explosives up against the wall. He got himself under a piece of cover and pressed the switch. Afterwards, just for a moment he admired the destruction he had caused, then dashed forward.

…..

The doctor made his way over to his patient's side. Michael was still sat on the sofa, the shallow, rapid rise and fall of his chest telling the doctor all he needed to know about his condition.

"Ms Glenanne why don't you go and see if Agent Callaghan needs any help. I'm just going to check Mr Westen over." The Doctor spoke softly, doing his best to sound genuine.

"Michael?" She queried, still not completely trusting the doctor.

"I'll be fine Fi, go make sure my mom's ok." He lent his head back on the sofa. He was trying to hide how bad he actually felt.

Doctor Cohen listened to his heart and lungs. "Not too bad considering. But you'll only go down hill without extra support."

Michael waited, for the doctor to continue. "You have some way of keeping me going?" He eventually asked. He knew what was about to happen, and in his present condition he was no good to any one.

The doctor pulled out one of the syringes he had loaded earlier. Michael looked at the needle and then back at the doctor. "What is it?" He asked, just like Fiona he didn't fully trust the man.

"A stimulant, it'll keep you on your feet for a while, it's also a bit of a pain killer." The doctor kept his head down as he pulled Michael's arm out straight, turning it over to expose the inside of his elbow.

"It'll act quite quickly, your hearing maybe distorted for a minute or two but then you'll feel a lot better." As he finished talking he was removing the needle from Michael's arm. He had given the injection while distracting Michael with his explanation.

He stayed beside his patient, as Michael's eyes went wide and he brought his hands up to the side of his head. "What the hell." The words came out slurred. There wasn't much noise in the house, but what there was echoed round in his head, along with a loud hollow ringing, and the sound of his blood rushing through his viens. He hunched forward, his face screwed up in pain.

Doctor Cohen scanned the room, relieved to see no one was looking their way. "A minute or so that's all. Keep it together Westen." He hissed. Keeping a firm hold of his arm. Finally Michael settled down, and shook off the doctor's grip.

"What the hell have you done to me." Michael felt like he had just had several giant doses of strongest coffee. Every sense was working to it's fullest, he couldn't remember a time when he had felt this well.

"I told you a stimulant, it should help you cope with what's happening, keep you on your feet so to speak." Doctor Cohen told him with a smile.

"How long will it last?" Michael asked he was taking in everything around him as if seeing the scene for the first time.

"Maybe an hour, I've another dose ready, just in case you need it." As he spoke, Michael was getting to his feet. Using just one crutch and with his gun in his free hand he started to hobble across the room.

He had gone only a couple of steps when he was knocked off his feet. The front wall of the house disintegrated, concrete, twisted pieces of rebar, and dust was all that was left of the front wall. Before anybody could react, Simon stepped forward, stopping just short of the rubble he threw a device into the middle of the room. When the flash bang went off it left everyone inside blind and deaf.

Only now with everybody down, did Simon come inside. As he entered he fired into the body of a wounded FBI agent who was trying to crawl away. "LARRY!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. "COME ON OUT!" He killed another agent who made a faint moaning noise as he passed.

The Doctor started to move but Michael grabbed hold of him, pulling him down. "Stay down." He hissed.

Even with what had just happened he still felt alert and ready to move. He had already, spotted Fiona slumped against an interior wall, a trickle of blood visible, coming from her hairline running down onto her cheek. She was breathing and he thought he saw her eyes flickering open. He hoped she was aware enough to know to keep still and not draw attention to herself. Her body jerked slightly when Simon fired again, Michael couldn't see if anyone was hit.

Simon had moved further into the room now, his hand fell onto the bathroom door. He rattled the handle and froze when he heard a gasp. He looked round the room, taking note of Michael's figure prone on the floor. With a smile he moved back slightly and delivered a devastating kick to the bathroom door. Another look at Michael's still form and he reached inside the room and dragged Madeline out by her hair.

"Michael, stop playing possum or mommy dearest here will have to pay." He called out. A smile came to his face as Michael slowly rose up, struggling he eventually managed to balance precariously on one leg.

"Where's Larry?" Simon asked, his rifle barrel pointed at Madeline's head as he held her in front of himself.

"I don't know." Michael answered honestly. As he spoke he used the sound of his voice to mask the cocking of the gun he was holding close to his side.

"DON'T LIE!" Simon shouted, giving his hostage a hard shake. Making her whimper in response.

The bullet hit him squarely between the eyes, he stood for a moment then staggered back falling against the wall before slowly crumpling to the ground.

Madeline with a cry, kicked herself free from the now dead assassin and staggered, half falling towards Michael. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, her head burrowing into his chest. He stood perfectly still, one arm around his mother the other still gripping his gun.

Fiona got slowly to her feet, her eyes on Michael. He stood with Madeline still clinging to his chest, but his expression was cold and hard, his lips had curled into a slight smile as he looked at Simon's lifeless body. He shifted his vision, as if realizing he was being watched, the icy calm stare he turned on her was not comforting in any way.

There was more noise now as everyone still capable of moving, started to try and help the wounded. Madeline stayed where she was, she had never seen Michael in action so to speak. It was frightening, even now when her heart was beating so hard and fast she thought it might burst out of her chest. He was like a rock, totally calm, if she hadn't witnessed his shot she would not have believed he had done it.

"Doctor!" Callaghan called out. "There are wounded, get out here."

Doctor Cohen scrabbled to his feet, glancing around at the damage done. He made his way round the room gingerly stepping over or around all the debris. After examining the fallen he announced. "You've got four men dead." His voice a little loud, if anyone thought about it, it was only that maybe his hearing had been compromised. "I'm sorry." He knelt beside a man half covered by a wall cabinet. "Five dead."

"Just deal with the wounded, Doctor." Callaghan ordered. "Fiona, Ms Glenanne are you alright?" He didn't wait for an answer, he turned to look at Michael.

He realized then that it had been Michael who had taken the shot. Callaghan took one look at the cold emotionless eyes that stared back at him and brought his gun up, aimed straight at Michael. "Drop the gun Westen." He growled.

Michael gently pushed his mother away from him, continuing all the time to stare back at the FBI agent. "I just saved a lot of lives." He spoke in a low voice, his fingers tightening on the grip, his finger slipping inside the trigger guard.

"I know, and we're grateful, but I need you to drop the gun now." Callaghan was doing his best to keep his own voice calm and reasonable. Michael Westen looked truly scary, he had no doubt in his mind that Westen would shoot him if he felt threatened.

"Michael." It was Fiona, moving over to his side. "Don't do this." She spoke softly, her hand gently resting on his arm.

At her touch Michael visibly relaxed, the finger came away from the trigger. His expression seemed to change slightly, no longer quite so harsh. "This isn't over yet." He said. Not ready to give up his gun.

Before Callaghan could say any more the Doctor shouted out. "I need my kit from my room now!" His tone was urgent. "Quickly or you'll lose another one."

Callaghan hesitated for a moment, not liking the idea of leaving Westen armed, but so many people had died already, if he could help save one, that became his priority. He backed away, then turned heading for the doctor's room. Just as one hand closed around the handle as he searched for the key with the other, the door was opened fast, he fell forward straight into a Larry's gun butt striking him a glancing blow.

"Well hello to you Agent Callaghan." Came Larry's cheerful voice. He stepped into the lounge holding Callaghan in front of him. He looked around taking in all the destruction. "My, my, Simon sure throws a messy party doesn't he?" He gave the fallen man's body a cursory glance, noting the bullet in the head. "Not like our boy Michael here. A nice shot kid."


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter thirty nine,

.

When the power went out, and explosions rocked the house, Sam had rushed towards Callaghan. In amongst all the chaos the agent saw Sam coming towards him and pointed to an open door.

"Take whatever you want!" The agent in charge called out, already turning away to direct the rest of his men into position.

Sam altered his course, now heading straight for the room being used as an armoury. He momentarily caught Fiona's eye as she hurried Madeline into the nearby bathroom. He had already picked up a handgun plus a spare clip, when Fiona appeared in the doorway.

"You ready for this?" Fiona asked, locking eyes with him, as he lifted up an assault rifle with a laser sight.

Sam gave a short nod, his expression grave. "I'll see you when this is over sister. Take care of Mike and Maddy." Then before she could say anything else he was gone.

Making his way further into the house, his mind was focused on the task he had volunteered for. He had told Callaghan he was the best man for the job, without a hint of boasting. Apart from Michael, he was the only one present who had worked with Larry. He knew exactly what the man was capable of, he couldn't be swayed by a disarming smile and misleading comment. He had nothing but contempt for Larry Sizemore and as far as he was concerned this moment had been a long time coming.

He found the storage room, and on entering he faced the three members of the tactical squad that he had been given temporary command. Pulling the door shut, they settled down to wait. There was no need to speak they all knew what they were there to do.

After a few minutes Sam squatted down, leaning his back against the wall, the rifle resting across his knees. Allowing his head to fall backwards he shut his eyes and waited for what had to be done.

They had been in place for less than half an hour when the whole building shook as another explosion went off. He fell forward as the shelves above him came away from the wall and he was covered by bed linen and towels. Struggling to his feet, ignoring the stiffness in his knees he checked out the rest of the team were ready to go. They waited, a flash of light could be seen under the door and an even louder explosion ripped through the house. A flash bang.

They would all be defenceless, blind and deaf. He couldn't help himself, he had the door open. A hand gripped his arm he looked back at a serious faced younger man who gravely shook his head. _It wasn't time yet. _With a silent curse he halted. Taking a deep breath, he rested his forehead against the door frame, shutting his eyes tightly he reminded himself of the mission.

He had always hated this type of job, where you were required to stay in the shadows. Having to maintain your cover regardless of what was going on around you, or what was happening to your friends. It had been years since he had to put his own feelings to the back of his mind for the sake of the bigger picture.

The crack of gunfire in the house, had him stepping through the doorway. He shrugged off the restraining hand. _To hell with it, he needed to see what was going on._ Silently sliding along the wall, he listened to Simon's ranting. Staying as flat as he could he edged ever closer to the lounge. Behind him came the rest of the tactical team.

Madeline's cry caused him to jump and almost reveal himself, only Simon's taunt to Michael stayed his hand. If Michael was alive and able to function, Maddy was safe. He had forgotten how much discipline was required for this sort of work. He was beginning to sweat.

Simon's ranting was cut off suddenly by a single shot. No attempt to negotiate with the mad man, as far as Sam could tell no words at all. Just a body hitting the wall and then falling to the ground. Now it would happen, he had no idea where Larry was hiding, but he was sure the man was about to make his appearance.

"Drop the gun Westen." Sam heard Callaghan's order.

"I just saved a lot of lives." Came Michael's defiant reply.

"Aw come on Mikey, don't do this, not now." Sam whispered.

"Michael." It was Fiona, speaking, her tone soft and persuasive. "Don't do this."

Sam found himself holding his breath. "This isn't over yet." came Michael's voice again, but less confrontational. Sam relaxed slightly, Fiona had got everything under control.

Breathing a little easier, Sam continued to listen. The doctor was talking unnaturally loud, as if passing on information. So Madeline may have been right about him, somebody else to watch when they made their presence known.

"Well hello to you Agent Callaghan." Sam stiffened, as he recognized the voice. The rifle snapped up to his shoulder.

"My, my, Simon sure throws a messy party doesn't he? Not like our boy Michael here. A nice shot kid." So Michael had been the one to kill Simon.

He wiped away the sweat that had broken out on his brow. _Wait, wait for it. Not yet._ He held himself still, too soon and Larry would be ready for him. Too late and more people would die. Having some idea of Larry's position, Sam gestured for two of his team to make their way round to hopefully come up behind the psychopath and cut off his retreat.

…...

Larry stood there full of confidence a smirk on his face, a gun covering the room and Callaghan's stunned body across the front of him.

"Nothing to say, Michael? Not even a thank you." Larry looked the younger man over. "Once we get out of here, you need to find a new tailor. Orange doesn't suit you and the cut is all wrong."

Fiona felt her heart sink, as Michael took an awkward step towards Larry, a welcoming smile on his face. She reached out to put a hand on his arm, and without so much as a glance, he brushed her out of the way.

"How did you get inside?" He had passed her now, his body between her and Larry. _He sounded pleased to see his old mentor, had he been fooling them all? _Fiona didn't want to believe it possible._  
_

"I'll tell you about it on the way out of the country kid." He made a small gesture with his gun. The movement as good as an order in Larry's book. "Let's go."

"Michael?" She tried to reach out to him again. _This couldn't be happening, they had got through to him._

"Not now Fi." He spoke quietly, his tone firm. He didn't even look round.

"Not now Fi." Larry mimicked. "How does it feel to always be second best Fiona?" He taunted, laughing at her.

Fiona didn't rise to the words, there was no way on earth she was going to let Larry know how easily he could rattle her.

"Leave her out of it Larry." Michael didn't sound quite as friendly as before. He lent down to pick up the crutch from where it had fallen.

"As you wish." He snapped back "Just get a move on, we need to be on our way." Larry was becoming impatient, Callaghan was regaining his senses and beginning to moan.

Surveying the room, content that there was no threat, he delivered a hard blow to Callaghan's head sending him sprawling onto the floor.

"Get the rest of them secured." Larry ordered Cohen. No longer having to hold on to the FBI agent he produced a second gun, to better cover the room.

Larry's actions caused Fiona to turn her attention to where Cohen, who was no longer pretending to be a doctor had herded the remaining FBI agents. Right alongside the injured, against a wall with the pressurized oxygen cannisters on either side of them.

She just managed to keep her features neutral, and her hand away from the gun she had hidden in the back of her jeans. If those cannisters were detonated it would bring what was left of the house down on them.

Shielded by Michael's body, Fiona backed up a little, encouraging Madeline to do the same. Putting a finger to her lips to tell her to keep quiet. She wanted to make sure Madeline was as far away from Larry as she could. But she also wanted to get a better angle on Cohen.

Michael was also looking at the man who had been acting as his doctor. "Are you really doctor?" He asked.

The man known as Cohen smiled. "I used to be, but I have other, better paying skills." He secured the few uninjured men and looked over to where the two women stood. He turned his head, someone was missing.

"Where's Axe?" He asked.

Both Larry and Michael looked round the room. "Where is he Michael?" Larry's tone was harsh, full of suspicion.

Michael ignored Larry, turning to Fiona. "Fi?" He queried, concern in his voice. That concerned tone gave her hope.

…..

"Hello Larry." Sam stepped into view, looking along the barrel of his gun.

Larry stared down at the red dot of the laser assist high lighting a spot over his heart, and then back at Sam. "So where have you been hiding while everyone else was fighting and dying?" His confident grin slipping slightly as another well armed man stepped into view, covering Cohen with a rifle.

"I've been waiting for you." Sam replied calmly, not taking his eyes off his target for a second. He was confident that the three man team and Fiona could take care of any other threat in the room. As long as Michael was thinking straight, if he sided with Larry the whole situation would become very messy, very quickly.

Out of the corner of his eye Sam could see Fiona working with his tac guy, placing the doctor into custody. Sam ignored the sounds of what was going on behind him, he was locked into a staring competition with Larry. If he looked away he knew he would be dead.

"Michael. Tell your wet rag of a friend to point his gun somewhere else. Before someone gets hurt." Larry snarled. He wasn't bothered by the arrest of Cohen, he was expendable. The other men in the room were no threat either, one shot into one of the cannisters against the wall and he could end them all.

"The only person getting hurt here will be you. If you make one move I don't like." Sam replied.

"Oh really." Larry dared him.

"Larry it's time to leave." Michael broke up the war of words. He was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Whatever Cohen had given him earlier was wearing off and the breathlessness and pain was returning.

"Mikey, what are you doing?" Sam asked. Michael had stepped between him and Larry, effectively blocking both of them from shooting the other.

"No families and no kids." Michael stated staring at Larry. _He didn't want to go to prison. Spending the rest of his life locked in a cell. He'd had a taste of that, not an experience he wanted to repeat._

"That's what I agreed." Larry took a step back, Axe would not shot through Michael to get to him, and if the FBI agent with him tried the shot, Fiona would do what was necessary to save her boyfriend. "Now stop wasting time. Do you realize how much time and money this extraction has cost me?"

"I didn't ask for it Larry, none of it." Michael stopped moving, taking a look round the room. At all the destruction, the dead and wounded. At his mother's expression of horror, at Fiona and then Sam. _He did not want to go to prison. But did he want year after year of this?_

Larry's grin faded, when he realized Michael wasn't following him. "What? You intend staying here? Don't be a fool Michael." He brought his gun up, pointed directly at the younger man's head. "I'm done giving you chances. If you don't get moving, I'm going to shoot you in the head."

Michael smiled, it was a cold unpleasant look. Not a look Larry was accustomed to seeing aimed at himself. "If you shoot me, Fiona and Sam will kill you. I know you Larry, you aren't that brave." He spoke the words with conviction.

"It won't be Mr Axe's decision." The speaker was one of the two men who Sam had sent round the house, to box Larry in.

Caught by surprise, Michael's gun came up pointing at the speaker. Everybody froze, just for a second._ If he fired it would set off a chain reaction. He needed a deal to keep himself out of prison, he knew it could never go back to the way it had been. But maybe there was a deal that would give him a chance to get to those who had put him in this position. He could not escape, he accepted that. _He let the weapon drop, and held up his hands in surrender.

Just like Michael, Larry was weighing his chances of escape. They were zero, realizing he was surrounded he dropped his own guns, and placed his hands on his head.

"This isn't over with kid." Larry snarled as his wrists were handcuffed behind his back. He had no intention of trying to negoitate his release. He had an awful lot of dirt on all sorts of people, in the military, in intelligence and even politics. Good old fashoined extortion would have him free within a week. Michael could rot in prison as far as he was concerned.

Michael didn't even acknowledge Larry, as he was pushed down on to a chair to await medical attention. In fact as Michael sat slumped back in his chair he ignored everyone. Wrapped up in his own thoughts.

_A deal, he would do whatever they wanted him to, for a chance at getting the people on that NOC list._ He hoped that would be enough.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter forty,

.

Michael shifted round in his chair trying to get a look at his mother. She was sat with her head bowed on the only remaining sofa, holding a tissue to her eyes. Fiona was sat next to her, offering a comforting arm around the weeping woman's shoulders.

Fiona must have felt his eyes on her, she looked over, treating him to the same cold blank stare he had given her earlier on. Michael dropped his eyes, knowing he deserved her disdain. He couldn't even bring himself to try and find Sam. As soon as the handcuffs had been snapped in place, he had heard Sam cursing and the rifle being thrown away.

More people were arriving now, the sound of the emergency vehicles could be heard getting nearer. He watched first Cohen and then Larry being taken away, then it was his turn. Dragged to his feet, he tried to resist just so he could catch a last look at those he had let down so badly. But they didn't give him a chance. He found himself in a windowless van, sat on a bench seat, a guard on each side.

He was shameless, letting them know he was ready to cooperate. He promised to answer any questions they wanted, he told them how much he regretted what had happened until eventually they told him to shut up. In the spirit of cooperation he complied. He hoped he had said enough to stop them just dropping him in a hole and throwing away the key.

When the van doors opened, he was inside a large brick building. The guards ordered him out and he was taken straight through a series of corridors to a cell, once inside the handcuffs came off and he was left alone. He stood and surveyed his surroundings, it was about what he had expected.

The room was in semi darkness it had a concrete platform with a thin plastic covered mattress on top as a bed. There was a metal chair bolted to the floor in front of a metal desk also bolted to the floor. One corner was designated as a bathroom, a toilet with no privacy and sink without a plug. No bed covers or pillow, no books, magazines radio or TV. The only light came from a large skylight above his head. The window was covered by mesh, even though it was too high up to be reached.

After a moment he lay down on what passed as his bed, hands behind his head and stared up at the skylight at least he was going have some way of measuring time. He needed to clear his head, to stop thinking about how badly he had let everyone down. Feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to get him out of this cell.

…...

Once they had been cleared to leave the scene, Sam booked them all into a quiet out of the way hotel. He thought they all needed sometime to process what the hell had got into his best friend's head. He had never thought the day would come where he couldn't trust Mike Westen to have his back. But he was afraid that day had come. He was also beating himself up about not doing more to stop Michael working with Larry in the first place.

The thing that made Michael good at his job, his ability to compartmentalize. To separate his personal feelings from any job he was doing. It made him a great spy. But it was a fine line to walk, and whenever he worked with Larry he seemed to lose his perspective, and slip further over that line. This time Sam feared his friend had slipped too far over to come back.

On the way across to open the doors to his terrace, Sam got a Bloody Mary from the mini bar, and went to sit down outside to watch the sunrise. He relaxed back, lifting his feet up on to the table. For now there was nothing more he could do. Taking a sip of his drink he tried to empty his mind and let his body relax.

.

Madeline had been grateful that Sam had decided on staying in a hotel, she wasn't ready to go home. Nightmares about Simon, and what he had done still haunted her dreams. She feared what else she would dream about when she next put her head down to rest. Michael's cold blooded shooting of Simon, the way he seemed to change before her eyes.

She knew what Michael was capable of, she had always known. Her biggest fear when he was a teenager had been that one day he would go too far and end up in jail or dead. It was one of the main reasons for signing the forms that sent him away from home to join the army. He had needed to find something good, something to believe in. It had been a long time coming, but she thought he finally found what he needed to keep him grounded.

She looked with disgust at all the no smoking signs around the room, and went out onto her terrace. She could see Sam sat outside with a drink, but left him to his thoughts. Lighting up a cigarette she lent over the wall staring out at nothing in particular. As much as Michael had disappointed her, as much as he had scared her, she wanted him back. She wanted to be able to tell him how stupid he had been, and then send him out to put it right.

She cocked her head slightly to one side, she thought she could hear crying coming from the next room. With a sigh she stubbed the cigarette out under her shoe and went back inside.

.

He had used them, treated them like assets, he had turned his back on everything they'd had together. She began to wonder how much of what he had said in that house had been part a plan devised by Larry Sizemore. Fiona found herself looking back on the last few days, questioning every word he had spoken, every gesture, every action. The few moments of tenderness, the expressions of remorse, had it all been an act?

Looking around the room, she pulled the curtains shut on the rising sun, and then collapsed onto the bed. It was as if Michael had died in front of her, replaced by a cold eyed assassin with a fake smile. She had seen him watching them, while they were waiting for reinforcements. He had looked so sorry for himself, worn out and used up. But she convinced herself it was an act, and hardened her heart. She would not be fooled again.

Taking a gulping breath, a tear welled up in the corner of her eye, running down onto her cheek. She brought her arm up across her face, but it wasn't enough. Taking another deep ragged breath, her self control broke. Turning over, she buried her face into her pillow, hoping she could muffle the sound building up in her chest waiting to burst out . A great heart wrenching sob tore loose and the tears she had held back began to flow. He had gone and this time she was sure he would not be coming back.

An hour later, saw her leaving the room. She glided downstairs and out of the foyer into the early morning sunshine. The storm from the previous night had blown away all the clouds, the still air promised a humid day. She walked along the pavement, heading for the beach. She'd had enough of being cooped up, she needed fresh air and open spaces. She needed to clear her head and plan her next move.

…...

He thought he was beginning to lose his mind, it had been a week. Total isolation, well maybe not total, because every time he shut his eyes he could see them. The hurt look on Fiona's face when he had brushed by her, at that point he'd had no plan in his head, just a thought to put himself between her and Larry. Sam was there too, accusing him of being Larry's puppet, maybe that was true, it was at least possible. The man never had a problem manipulating him. Finally there was his mother. She would stare at him through a smoky haze, her blue eyes filled with sorrow, the look he had seen a lot through his teenage years. The one that asked where had she gone wrong to raise such a son.

He paced as best he could in the small cell, he had to keep control, they would come for him soon. He had information they needed, and he had told them he would cooperate. They were softening him up, making sure he knew the consequences if he went back on his word. He lay on the concrete floor and began to do crunches, soothing himself with exercise. After a while he changed to push ups placing his injured leg on top of his good leg for support. Then he went back to pacing, a circle of activity until he was so tired he had to sleep.

…..

Nine days now, had they forgotten about him? Had they found the NOC list without him? He was sat on his bed leaning forward with his head in his hands, when the door to his cell was opened. His head jerked up with surprise. Two guards stood in the doorway.

"On your feet Westen." Came a barked order.

He felt a flood of relief, _finally._ He obeyed climbing to his feet slowly.

"Turn your back to the door, hands behind your back." Complying he flinched when he felt the snap of metal round his wrists. Unable to hide a grimace when they were done up tighter than necessary, but he didn't complain.

Still walking with a pronounced limp, he had a guard on each side gripping his arms helping to support him on a rapid walk out of his cell, along a bare corridor and into a small room. They dropped him onto one of the two chairs in the room and left, locking the door behind them. He waited, staying where they had placed him. The cuffs were becoming more uncomfortable as time dragged by, he had lost the feeling in his hands by the time the door opened and a well built man in his fifties entered the room carrying an evidence box.

The man took the remaining seat in the room and dropped the box down in between them. "You expressed an interest in helping in this investigation." The man crossed one leg over the other and made himself comfortable in chair.

"What do you want to know?" Michael replied.

"The thumb drive with the NOC list we want to know where it is hidden." This was where any conversation with Westen had stalled before, they wanted to know how serious he was about being cooperative.

"I take it you've checked all the usual places?"

"The room has been stripped, flooring, furniture, soft furnishings every device, ornament light fitting. Everything has been dismantled, and scanned."

Michael licked his lips. "And if I help you with this, what do I get?"

"The knowledge you've helped your country." Came the dry reply.

"My country wants to lock me up for the rest of my life, so I need a little more. A show of faith." He gave the man what he hoped was a confident smile.

The man gave a disappointed sigh, lent forward picking up the box and got to his feet. "Enjoy your stay with us."

Michael watched him head towards the door. He relaxed slightly when the man turned and looked back. "This is a one time only offer. You answer every single question we ask you, fully. You don't leave out a single detail. You behave, obeying any orders without question. Then, if what you tell us is useful, an arrangement might be reached."

"There's not a great deal of incentive in there for me." Michael countered.

"Suit yourself." The man shrugged, knocking on the door to have it unlocked. He already knew he had won, he could read it on Westen's face.

"The elevator furthest away from the room." Michael spoke up. The man stood in the door way, waiting for the rest. "Open the inspection hatch, it'll be in a small box covered in grease, it'll be hard to see. If it's not there, and you really have stripped the room out I don't know where it is."

"I'll get back to you." The man left the room, satisfied. It was a start.

…...

For the next week Michael was stuck into a daily routine. He was woken up before dawn, given a small breakfast and a short period of time to freshen up. Then as the sun began to lighten the cell he was handcuffed and taken to the same interrogation room as the first time. There he spent the day answering question after question. Sometimes they tested him, asking about things they already knew the answer too. Then it would be back to his cell and another meal and finally he would fall into an exhausted sleep.

He was becoming frustrated though, he answered every one of their questions, but they would not answer a single one of his. How was his mother? what about Fiona and Sam? When was a decision going to made on his future?

The end of another day, back in his cell earlier than normal because he refused to answer anything more until he got some answers of his own. They left him for two days before he was next removed from his cell. He was surprised to find himself taken to a shower block. The handcuffs were removed and he was handed a wash bag, towel and fresh clothes. A cheap suit, a plain white shirt and street shoes.

"Thirty minutes, Westen." One of his guards told him, then they left him alone. Michael showered and enjoyed his first chance to shave in nearly three weeks. He just made it into the clothes as the guards returned.

When the guards came back in he automatically turned his back for the handcuffs to go back on. "Not this time." He was told. "Come with us please." He raised an eyebrow at that. Please, a word he hadn't heard for a long time. They even slowed their pace to allow for his limp instead of dragging him along at their pace.

He found himself in an underground car park, the door to a limousine being held open for him. Inside was the man who had been interrogating him for the last week. Michael sat back on the comfortable leather seat, noting the windows were blacked out.

"So where are we going?" He asked.

"No questions Mr Westen. You know the drill." Came the reply.

"I'm just wondering if the interrogation part is over, what happened to a deal? That's all." He got no reply.

He waited a few minutes, then. "I mean why would you have me in a suit, travelling in a limo for a prison transfer?" Still no reply.

He tried again. "How about..."

"How about you shut up." Finally the man had enough.

Michael sat back, but not for long. "Can I have a drink of water?"

"No." Was the short answer, the man unbuttoned his jacket and pulled out a set of handcuffs, dropping them on the seat. His expression frosty, a warning. The rest of the journey was made in silence.

"we're here." The car came to a stop and the man sat forward as the door was opened. Michael followed him out into another underground car park. "Follow me." Came the order and he dutifully obeyed.

An elevator journey and a walk along a carpeted hall and he was surprised to find himself in a hotel suite. Across the living space was a large terrace over looking Miami Beach, a man he recognized as Director Jack Faye sat at a glass topped table, talking with a younger man with an expensive haircut and a wearing a designer suit.

Michael recognized this man, not by name. This man was what he used to be, a spy, an intelligence officer or covert agent whatever you wanted to call it. It was what he had been before whatever he had become now, a wash out, a questionable asset.

"Mr Westen, take a seat." Faye ordered.

Michael looked behind him, his escort had disappeared, it was just the three of them. Undoing his jacket Michael slid into the offered seat.

Faye opened a file and handed Michael a sheet of paper. "Senor Diego Montez, Bolivian national, we understand from the information on the NOC list, he supplied money and training facilities to Vaughn's organization. We want to have a talk to him."

Michael looked at the information he was handed, the man was in Bolivia. He waited to see where this was going. Faye didn't keep him waiting long. "We cannot officially go in and get him. He is well connected with contacts throughout the Bolivian government and his home is very securely protected."

Michael allowed himself a smile, he had worked jobs like this in the past. He knew what he was doing now, what was expected.

"Senor Montez has a son in college, here. Well not here exactly, at Havard but he will be in Miami in two days time. We'd like you to make sure he stays here until Montez can be convinced to come and get him."

"Kidnapping." Michael said. Then turned to the other man. "And whose this?"

"Your boss, John Smith."

"John Smith? Really?" Michael scoffed.

"It's all you need to know Westen. He's your boss, you do what he tells you, when he tells you. If this arrangement works, maybe we'll extend your leash." Faye got to his feet. Looked at Smith and smiled. "Good luck." He murmured before walking out.

The two men waited for Faye to leave, then Smith poured Michael an iced tea. He took the offered drink, sipped a small amount, and put the glass down. "Well if the target isn't here for two days I think I'll pop out for..."

"No." Smith replied, he was Michael's age maybe slightly younger. "You'll stay here. When I go out you'll accompany me. No visits to your mother or old associates, no contact whatsoever in fact." It was clear he was used to giving orders and having them obeyed.

Michael paused, sipping some more of the tea. The two men weighed each other up, looking for weaknesses. Michael inclined his head, accepting for now he wouldn't be seeing any one this Smith didn't want him too.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter forty one,

.

As he sipped his iced tea, Michael watched Smith lean out over the balcony wall, admiring the view of the harbour below. "So what exactly is my status?" He inquired, his tone bored, trying to hide how much he wanted an answer.

Smith turned so his back was against the wall. He seemed to think carefully before speaking. "Your status? Your status is, changeable. The burn notice has been discredited and is now revoked. Your bank accounts have been unfrozen, but are being monitored for now, and you have been temporarily assigned to the task force looking into Vaughn's covert group and the Barratt affair. But there's a whole box load of criminal charges that are still under investigation. So if I was you, I'd not be getting to comfortable."

Things weren't as bad as he had thought. The burn notice was revoked and he was back in, sort of. "And do you know how that investigation is going?" _He was back in. It was what he wanted._

"It depends on your point of veiw I suppose. Most of the deaths that occurred have been attributed to either Escher or Sizemore. I believe the sticking point is those four agents in Fort Lauderdale and it's unclear how much responsibilty you bare for all those that died at the safehouse."

"I didn't plan any of that." Michael tried to offer a defence.

Smith gave him a disgusted look and turned away. "I've seen the transcripts of your interrogation. Not once did you ask how any of those agents were from the safe house. Agent Callaghan survived if you're at all interested. His skull was fractured in two places and he was in a coma for a week."

Michael looked down, he had done it again, forgotten about the people around him. He was doing a lot of that lately. "Sorry I didn't think." He muttered.

There was silence for a few minutes, Smith stared out over the harbour. "Six years ago I was due to go into Russia, but I was bumped. I found out later it had gone to you. Apparently they thought you would have more feel for the whole Russia-Iran affair."

Michael remembered the assignment, the nuclear enrichment deal, between Russia and Iran. Nobody wanted them getting too cosy. "I worked a lot in both..." He started to explain.

"I know, I had a good read of your dossier, when I got given this babysitting job. Cut through all the bullshit, and it reads that you're a crazy son of a bitch who doesn't stop until the missions finished. And some of stuff I read about. Makes me wonder how you're still alive."

Michael scowled at Smith over the babysitting comment. "Just lucky I guess."

"Well I like to rely on something more than luck. So read up on Montez and then tomorrow we'll go scout out his hotel and the surrounding area." As he spoke, he pointed to the folder Faye had left behind.

An hour later Michael had the paperwork from the file spread out over the dining table. He enjoyed looking through intelligence reports, it could be frustrating at times. You had to read between the lines and sometimes it could take awhile to see the links in data. He found it a challenge, leaning over the table he was absorbed with moving the documents around as he started to see a pattern in the data emerging.

He frowned, picking up two of the documents that particularly interested him. Holding them side by side, he compared the details. He searched through the documents left on the table and pulled out a third piece of paper. He glanced up, Smith was still stood out on the balcony. Why were they going after Montez when this pointed to a domestic connection?

"What's up?" Smith had been watching Michael, out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm just wondering why we're going after Montez, when this says all his money goes through a company called Palisade Logistics?"

Smith straightened up and walked across to the table. He began to carefully stack up all the paperwork. "Your job is Montez junior, concentrate on that." He sorted through what he had in his hands, before handing Michael the few pieces back that solely covered Montez.

Michael felt his temper snap. First the babysitting comment, now being treated like some raw recruit. "Palisade, is an American company and investigating them may actually lead.." He tried to explain his reasoning.

"You're not here to run an investigation. I know it's been a while, but try and remember how it works. You get told what to do, you do it, and then you get paid. You don't get sidetracked or change the specifics just because you're bored."

With a snarl of frustration Michael threw the documents back at Smith, and crossed the room, sitting down in an armchair facing away from the other man, he grabbed a magazine and began to read. His head full of murderous thoughts. He needed to calm down, this wasn't him. He didn't automatically turn to violence to sort out problems, yet at that precise moment if he had been armed Smith would have been dead. He forced himself to concentrate on reading about some minor TV celebrity's life drama.

..

Smith stayed where he was, staring at the back of Michael's head. Westen's last performance review before the burn notice, had commented on his calm, analytical mind and strength of character. A reliable cool headed operative, who stayed on task however long the job took. This man was so tightly wound he was probably a danger to himself, and anyone around him.

He picked up the documentation Michael had thrown at him, and placed everything back in the folder. Then he got out another folder. This one, the updated Michael Westen dossier.

He had been out in the cold for four years, trying to prove his innocence. Then it he appeared when he finally had all the evidence he needed too clear his name something had happened to send him off the tracks. A series of injuries only slowed him down, two separate concussions, a blast damaged lung and major surgery on a shrapnel wound. Even with all that he had shot and killed Simon Escher and very nearly escaped custody.

Smith poured himself some more iced tea and sat outside, contemplating the fact he had to try and keep Michael Westen under control. He was beginning to wish he hadn't requested changing from field work for the more secure job of a handler.

…..

Two days later Smith felt slightly better about working with Michael Westen. The man definitely knew how to do his job. He had watched him get Montezs suite number out of the receptionist, and the news he was turning up with a companion. All without raising a hint of suspicion.

A trip to a FBI shooting range so Westen could be issued with a firearm resulted in him watching the man unload bullet after bullet into the target, any one of them would have been a kill shot. Thankfully, especially now he was armed there had been no more displays of an uncertain temper.

Finally though it was time, Montez had been spotted at the airport, Smith dropped Michael back off at the Hotel Allegro. He tried to make it as clear as possible, today was about surveillance. A chance to see the target in the flesh and check out the bodyguard, they had just found out about.

Michael relaxed back in one of the many armchairs in the hotel reception. Crossing one leg over the other he picked up one the daily papers that were left available for guests, and waited. An hour later he saw Montez walking through the main doors, and behind him at a discrete distance his bodyguard. He already knew the number and position of the suite they had booked, so after watching them disappear into the elevator he got to his feet. He had seen all he need to.

When he stepped out of the Hotel a plain black sedan pulled up next to him. He got in the back without comment, he knew Smith had him watched. Making sure he didn't try and slip away.

Back at his hotel he walked through to the poolside bar, finding Smith sat at a table wearing nothing more than swim shorts and flip flops. Drinking some sort of cocktail, through a straw.

"I can't take on two men on my own." Michael told him, as he took his jacket off before sitting down.

"That's how it's got to be." Smith calmly told him, though he could see Michael's point.

"So, I'm being set up?" Suspicion crept into Michael's voice.

"No, it's just the way it's got to be done. Montez has to believe that it's just you. That he's not walking into a government endorsed ambush, but coming over to deal with one highly unstable burnt spy."

Michael rubbed his eyes. "So I'm on my own, can do this any way I want to?"

"Just as long as it doesn't involve a state wide manhunt and awkward questions being asked in congress." Smith smirked at his reference to Michael's recent history.

Michael didn't rise to the comment, instead he gestured to a waiter to bring over two of whatever Smith was drinking. "I promise to behave myself." He eventually answered.

Michael stayed at the table for the rest of the afternoon, sat in his suit pants and dress shirt. He appeared to be staring off into space while drinking cocktails. But what he was doing, was watching a podgy, spiky haired man conduct a series of business meetings with a variety of shady looking men.

Smith, was getting out of the pool when Michael finally decided to go and change out of his suit, he gave a barely perceptible nod for one his men to follow. Michael walked into the hotel and then crossed towards the elevators brushing against the spiky haired man who was on his way out.

"Ask Sam to look into Palisade Logistics." Michael hid his words behind a dazzling smile.

Barry Burkowski, Michael's favourite money launderer, managed not to jump or give away he had just been bumped into by a man he hadn't seen for months. In fact the agents watching didn't even remark on the encounter to Smith.

Back in his room Michael stripped off his clothes and got under the shower, letting the water flow over his head and down his back. Tomorrow morning he was committing his first government sanctioned crime in years. After his shower he got into a pair of jeans that had been supplied to him, and went to sit on the balcony with a map showing where Luis Montez liked to go running when staying in Miami.

…

It was 6 am, Michael was sat in his government issued car, waiting to spot Luis Montez and his bodyguard. He caught sight of them, on a nearby park trail. Soon they would be coming passed his position, to cross onto another path. Michael got out of the car after unlocking the trunk. The two men came running by, and he threw out a foot.

The bodyguard felt a blow into the back of his knee, which sent him sprawling onto the ground. He looked up as a man stepped over him to catch up to Luis and deliver a hard blow to the back of the young mans head.

Seeing his charge go down, the bodyguard struggled to rise. His hand pulling a gun from his waistband. Michael saw the move and his own gun came out. He fired without hesitation, killing the man instantly. He paused for a moment looking around, worried about the noise of the shot drawing attention to what he was up to.

Seeing no one, he grabbed Montez by the arm hauling him up on to his shoulder and carried him over to the car. Moments later he had the body in the trunk and after a quick search through his victim's pockets for his cell phone and to make sure he had no weapons. Michael was on his way to the abandoned warehouse Smith had picked for the prisoner to be held.

It wasn't until he was driving through the light, early morning traffic that it struck him the shooting hadn't bothered him in the least. It was similar to when he had shot Simon, though that shooting had given him a certain amount of pleasure.

Arriving at the location, Michael parked up and opened the trunk. Luis was awake and tried to put up a fight until he saw his captor's gun and the cold emotionless eyes watching him.

"You know who I am?" Michael growled.

Luis nodded, when his father had hired the bodyguard he had also received a photo of this man, with a message. 'This is Michael Westen. If you see him contact me immediately.'

"You're Michael Westen." Luis spoke with barely a trace of an accent.

"Good, if you know who I am. You know what I'll do if you cause me any trouble. Get out." Michael cocked the gun to make his point.

The young man got out of the trunk and moved without a fuss to where Michael directed. Once in a small store room fitted out with a mattress and a couple of blankets and not a lot else.

"What do you want with me? My father has done nothing to you." Luis called out as Michael went to shut the door.

"You're just leverage kid. It'll be over in a few days." He shut the door locking it behind him. Nearby a space had been set up for him, a fridge, microwave and a kettle made up a basic kitchen. A small table and a chair and an air mattress made up the rest of his living quarters.

He had the kid's cell, he could make an untraceable call to his mom, Sam or Fi. He turned the phone over in his hands, trying to decide what to do. It was on his mind that he had nearly got his mother killed, blown up by one of his enemies. He put the phone down onto the needed to think about it.

...

A/N: I'm stuck on what to do about the end of this story. It has got incredibly long and I don't know how the rest of you are coping, but I have to keep re reading parts to check it fits in with what's gone on before. I'm thinking about either, finishing it in another two chapters which to be honest might be tight to tie everything up. Or leave the ending open for a whole sequel bringing them all back together (maybe) in a full story.

Please let me know what you think, I've got the next chapter written up roughly, and that will be ready in a day or so. Purdy:)


	42. Chapter 42

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed and left comments last time. It has been a great help, and given me quite a few ideas on where to take this story. Please let me know if this chapter has started to answer some of the many loose ends I've managed to create.

.

**Chapter forty two,**

"You saw Mike at the Eden Roc, and all he said was check out Palisade Logistics?" Sam was sat at his normal table on the pavement outside the Carlito. Barry sat across from him, taking a long sip from a minty mojito.

"Yeah, and he had that whole scary intense thing he does going on." Barry gave a little shiver.

"Was he alone? Did you see any one with him, or watching him maybe?" Sam lent forward, something had to be up for Michael to be making contact this way.

"Nah, I tell you Sam I didn't even know he was there, until he bumped into me. So what's going on?" Barry was wondering if he needed to take another vacation away from Miami.

Sam shook his head. "I wish I knew." He got to his feet, dropping a twenty onto the table. "Thanks for passing on the message Barry. See you around."

"Hey, do I need to leave town, I mean .."

"No, Barry I think you should be alright." He gave Barry a pat on the shoulder and was on his way.

Sam made his way home, three weeks without a word, and then this cryptic message. No apology or explanation about what was going on. He was sorely tempted to ignore the message and continue with the fishing trip he had planned for the evening.

_Who was he kidding._ With a sigh he reached for his laptop. The only reason Mike would contact him the way he had, was because he was in trouble. He tapped in Palisade logistics on the keyboard, looking at the list that appeared, he realized he was going to need more to go on. Which meant he was going to have to try and talk to him. Which meant he was going to need back up. Which meant he was going to have to contact Fiona.

Fiona Glenanne, there was somebody else heading for a fall. He had been trying to work up the nerve to talk to her about the way she was acting out. Over the last three weeks Fiona had been a very busy, and destructive girl.

…...

Fiona was resting up in the apartment she had just bought, and completely furnished with her recently acquired ill gotten gains. The last three weeks had been very busy and profitable for her. It had been a long time since she had earned as much money in such a short length of time.

Her phone rang, looking at the caller ID she scowled, it was Sam. She snatched up the phone, worried it was something to do with Michael, or Maddy.

"Sam?" She tried to mask her concern.

"Mike has been in touch, I think we need to try and see him. But I can't do it on my own. Can you meet me later?" He wasted no time with small talk, as dangerous as it was going to be, he wanted to be face to face when he spoke to her. Hopefully she would listen to him, before opening fire.

"How is he?" She couldn't help herself.

"I've not seen him, but he got a message to me. Look just meet me, eight o clock tonight at the Carlito I'll buy dinner." He sweetened the deal.

"Ok, I'll see you then. Oh Sam, I'm going to order the most expensive thing on the menu, so bring lots of cash." She hung up the call and lay back down on her sofa. Why hadn't Michael contacted her instead of Sam. There was Larry's voice taunting her again. _"How does it feel to be second best yet again."_

…...

Fiona had done a lot of soul searching on the beach after Michael had been taken away. She hadn't moved until the beach started to get busy, then she had just started walking aimlessly along the pavement. When her phone had begun to ring, she had ignored it. But a little later she checked the caller ID and had been on the point of deleting the call, when she changed her mind. It might be exactly what she needed.

"Sid." She spoke as soon as he answered. "It's not a good time. What do you want?"

"Hey Fi, how does twenty grand sound for a ten minute job? You'll love it, come round for breakfast. I have a great business opportunity lined up for you." Sid's voice had come out of the phone. She hadn't heard from him in over a year, and now he had a business deal for her.

That had been three weeks ago, since then she had done six jobs for Sid. As the recession was hitting a lot of people wanted to make insurance claims. She had burnt out a night club, blown up two warehouses, broken into and vandalized a luxury villa, stolen a top of the range sports car and left it burnt out on a deserted stretch of road. Finally she had sunk a catamaran out in the gulf of Mexico, and Sid had a lot more jobs lined up for her. As much destruction as she wanted, and she was being paid for it as well. Materially it was a long time since she had done so well for herself.

…...

Sam was waiting for her, a bottle of her favourite wine on the table ready to be poured. He stood up and held her chair while she sat down. "You're going all out on this Sam." She commented, wondering why he was being so thoughtful.

"I just think it's about time we all get back on track." He fixed her with a stern look. "How are you getting on?"

"I'm fine Sam." She replied, reaching for the menu.

"So all the recent explosions around Miami are nothing to do with you?" He pulled the menu down to stop her hiding behind it.

"No one has been hurt. Apart from the pockets of some insurance companies." She reassured him. Going back to deciding what she wanted to eat.

"Oh, and what about the two homeless guys in the warehouse by the canals. If they hadn't been found by fire and rescue that would have been two innocent deaths. I thought you'd learnt your lesson all those years ago in Antrim."

Fiona paled. "You know about that?" She gave up looking for something to order, and instead drained a large glass of wine in one go.

"I worked it out. You cut all ties to the IRA including robbing banks for them, just after a bomb goes off on a main street. Killing or maiming a whole load of people." He replied, refilling her glass for her. "It was a big deal, even made the news over here."

"The timer was faulty, it went off half an hour too early. We had only just made the call to the police." She spoke in a quiet voice. She'd never had it happen before, the guilt had almost crippled her. It ended her association with the cause, and sent her fleeing to New York. Just thinking about it gave her chills.

Sam lent forward over the table. "It was a long time ago, don't let what happened make you slip back into old habits. Ok." He was pleased when she nodded, he hoped dealing with Michael was going to be as easy.

"So are you positive you want something expensive? I was thinking the specials looked pretty good tonight." He changed the subject.

They sat eating and drinking, the only thing missing to make it business as usual was Michael. As they talked about the cryptic message, they decided to try and find Michael and see what exactly he was up to. They also decided for now they would keep Madeline in the dark. No need to worry her unnecessarily.

…...

Michael sat staring at Luis Montez cell phone, it lay where he had left it on the table. Over an hour had passed and he was no clearer on what to do. He had been right all along, when he had said he was a danger to everyone he cared about. Simon had nearly killed his mother, a year earlier Fi had been kidnapped as part of a plan by Strickler to isolate him. How many other close calls had there been? How many times had he turned his friends and families lives upside down.

He pushed the phone further away. Getting to his feet he began to pace. This was something else he had started to do more and more. When his mind refused to cooperate, and concentrate on a single line of thought, he paced.

It was at times like this he could do with Sam's humour to lighten the situation, or Fiona's touch to calm his nerves. He was back at the table looking at the phone, he picked it up weighing it in his hand before pressing it hard into his forehead. Not his mother, she'd want him home. She wouldn't be able to hide the fact he had contacted her. There was no telling who was watching. Faye could be having her watched, or even worse Larry. No Larry was locked up.

He was back pacing without even realizing what he was doing. Would Fiona speak to him, he had let her down yet again. How many times did he really think he could treat her so badly and have her comeback. What if she rejected him? Would he be able to cope if she hung up on him? Or what if she did forgive him, she would expect him to comeback home, she wouldn't accept anything less.

With a snarl he sent the phone flying across the room. He watched it bounce off the opposite wall and on to the floor. Spinning round he threw a punch at the wall behind him, splitting the skin across his knuckles. Grabbing at his injured hand, he forced himself to stand up straight shutting his eyes tight, he used the pain in his hand to centre himself.

He couldn't do this on his own. After a few minutes he made himself to move, crouching down by the cell phone to see what damage he had done. The case was cracked, broken away at the back, the battery had come out. He carefully put it back together. If it still worked he would call Sam. First though he needed to clean up his hand.

…

Sam woke up to his cell vibrating it's way off the night stand. Grabbing it up he squinted at the display, not recognizing the number. "Yello." He answered.

"Sam? Did you get my message?" He was sat up now, Michael's voice sounded strained.

"Yeah Mikey, how are you doing brother?"

The line was silent, Sam thought Michael must have hung up. "Mikey?"

"Yeah sorry. I'm not..." Silence again.

"Mike tell me where you are and I'll come and get you." He was up now and getting dressed.

"No. You can't, I'll be in touch. Just get me something on Palisade, please." The line went dead.

"Damn it Mike what the hell are you up to." Sam sat back down on his bed. His friend had sounded terrible. He dialled back, but the phone had been switched off.

Now he was up, he switched the TV on flicking to the news channel. A quick look around his kitchen and he settled down with a Bloody Mary, to think things through. Maybe a call to Jack Faye, no he wouldn't help with this, in fact Sam wouldn't be surprised to find out that Faye was involved. No, he hated having to do it but he was going to have to ask Jesse to stick his neck out.

…...

"Westen has spoken to Sam Axe, he's asking about something called Palisade. He's also acting very agitated sir, are you sure you don't want us to take over?" The speaker was sat in a car hidden in a small clump of trees close to the warehouse. On the passenger seat sat a thermal image screen, standing outside another agent was holding up an external microphone.

Smith bit his lip, this was his first assignment as a handler, Westen his first charge. If he failed on this mission he wouldn't get any more and he'd find himself somebody else's assistant with a long wait for another chance.

"Is he doing his job?" He asked.

"Yes. Montez is locked up and Westen is staying put, but.."

"Just keep an eye on him. Westen is a skilled operator he knows what he is doing. Don't interfere unless he does something dangerous." Smith put the phone down. Director Faye had made it very clear he wanted Michael Westen back in work. He was apparently a valued asset, it was hoped he just needed time to adjust.

Smith went and poured himself a shot of whiskey, Montez had just received word about his son's kidnapping. Hopefully he would arrive in the next day or two and Montez junior could be released. Once the assignment was finished he was going to request Westen be given some leave, while the outstanding criminal charges were investigated. If they couldn't stop him making contact with his friends and family maybe they could use them to keep him in order.


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter forty three,

.

He was a coward, as soon as he had heard Sam's voice he had lost his nerve. The fact Sam was still willing to help him, wanted to drop whatever he was doing and come and get him was humbling. Especially as the last time they had seen each other he had nearly walked away with Larry. That act had to be the ultimate betrayal as far as Sam was concerned. He had been unable to think of what to say, sorry just didn't seem to cover it. So he had taken the cowards way out, and barely said a word before hanging up.

When he finished the call Michael dismantled the cell. Throwing the SIM out of the window into a dense tangle of weeds, removing the temptation to make more calls. He went and checked on Montez, leaving him some water and a pack of sandwiches. The kid seemed to be coping well with the ordeal, for which Michael was truly grateful. A scared panicking prisoner would have sent him straight over the edge.

It was close to mid-day when he settled himself down at the table to clean his gun, focussing on stripping the Sig down, inspecting and then cleaning each part before reassembling it and finally loading in a fresh clip. With that done he began his usual routine of exercise until he was tired enough to rest.

Eventually he had worn himself out enough to lay down on the air bed, and let his eyes drift shut. This would all be over soon, and hopefully he would have proved his worth. He needed the job, it was all he had left and it would offer some level of security for his mother.

When he next opened his eyes it was getting dark outside, he could hear Montez moving around in his room. Sitting up he looked around, he needed to set up some lights. He had been left some large battery operated lanterns. Setting them up he went outside to check that they couldn't be seen from the road. Satisfied he went to check out what he had been left to feed himself and his guest.

.

Diego Montez had been woken up by a phone call at seven am. A muffled voice had informed him he was talking to the man who had just kidnapped his son Luis. He said his name was Michael Westen and he wanted half a million American Dollars and he wanted the money delivered personally.

Diego Montez took the news of his son's kidnapping very badly. By half past seven he had sent his whole household into chaos. He ordered his pilot to be found and his private jet made ready. He wanted to be in Miami as quickly and as quietly as possible. He didn't care how expensive or difficult it was to do. Next he got onto his banker, demanding that the money for the ransom to be made available immediately.

When his two most trusted advisers had tried to dissuade him from leaving the country, he had thrown them out of his house in a fit of rage. Then he had locked himself in his study and spent the rest of the morning on the phone calling his friends in the States. What he heard made him fear for his son's life even more. Westen was beyond reason, he had been subject to a manhunt. A lot of people had been killed including his great friend Augustus Vaughn.

The journey to the closest small private airport took over an hour, he travelled with four bodyguards all of them on full alert. Montez himself might have been convinced that this was all the work of Michael Westen, but he had finally grudgingly agreed to tighten up his personal security to humour his family and friends.

Once on the aircraft, he relaxed back in his seat. Opening his brief case he settled down to go through everything he had managed to find out about Westen. Nothing he read gave him any comfort. He should have insisted the boy come home as soon as they had discovered Westen was talking to the FBI. But he had been too soft, Luis was taking his final year exams and he had thought one bodyguard would be enough.

When he stepped off the plane it was seven pm. His son had been in Westen's hands for just over twelve hours. He walked out into the fresh evening air surrounded by the security guards his associates had promised him. Once inside the waiting air condition limousine he relaxed marginally, Luis would be back at his side soon, hopefully before midnight, if he could arrange it.

The car came to a stop, barely half an hour later. Far too soon to have reached his destination. A heavily guarded very private villa, owned by a Bolivian diplomat. He spoke to the limousine driver. "What is happening?"

The door opened and he squinted outside, staring at the group of armed men waiting for him to get out. "Senor Diego Montez? I am Special Agent Connors FBI, we would like to have a word with you."

…...

Smith came to halt staring at the gun pointing directly in his face. "Westen. You want to lower that." He kept his voice calm, knowing the other man was only doing his job.

"Is it over?" Michael slid his gun back into his waistband, moving back to allow Smith into the room.

"Yeah, Montez has agreed to cooperate, providing he has proof his son is on a plane heading for Bolivia. We're taking him now." Michael handed the keys to the room holding Montez junior to the two agents who had followed Smith inside.

"So what am I doing now?" Montez was being escorted out passed him.

Smith gave him a smile. "I've spoken to Director Faye, you have some leave coming. Stay in Miami, don't draw large sums of money, stay where we can see you and no taking any little side jobs with your friends."

"Anything else?" Michael wasn't sure what to make of this turn of events.

"Yes. Hand over your gun, and keep this phone on you at all times." He handed Michael a cell phone, and kept his hand out waiting for him to hand back the gun.

"I have enemies." He pointed out.

"You will be under surveillance." Smith countered.

With a sigh Michael reluctantly handed over his gun. He looked at the piece of paper Smith dropped into the palm of his hand. An address.

"Your girlfriend's new residence." Smith turned away. "Relax, have some fun." He went out to supervise Luis Montez homecoming. For him it had been a successful first assignment.

…...

Michael was unsure what to do, he drove around aimlessly for a while. He sat across the street from his mother's, catching a glimpse of her walking by the window. He wasn't going in there, at least not tonight. He turned his attention to the piece of paper Smith had given him, smoothing it out he read the address. What could it hurt to go and have a look?

Michael stood outside Fiona's new apartment building, shielded from view by some overgrown shrubs. She had obviously been doing very well for herself. Looking up at the building he could tell that from her sixth floor balcony she would have views of the ocean. He wondered what she was up to now, had she already moved on. He would not blame her if she had. He heard a faint rustling sound coming from behind him, spinning round he came face to face with Fiona. He had trouble looking her in the eye because of the gun barrel pressed up under his chin.

He froze in place, his hands held palm up. She was staring at him, her eyes flickering as she checked him over. "Were you planning on standing out here all night?" She asked her tone was pleasant but the gun had not been removed from his throat. He loved that sing song quality in her voice when she was playing.

"No." He answered carefully and tried to move back step, but she just pressed the gun in harder.

"Good then let's go." She ordered, her tone hardening. Lowering the gun she gestured him to go towards the entrance.

"Fi, I don't think this a good idea." He hesitated. But she gave him a nudge with the still drawn gun.

"Nonsense Michael, you were interested enough to stand outside like some sort of stalker. I want to show you my new home."

He realized she wasn't about to take no for an answer, so he did as she asked. After she had put in the code for the door he opened it and they were inside the building.

They travelled up to the sixth floor in silence. Once in her apartment she dropped the gun onto a cabinet along with a set of keys. "Can you imagine my surprise when I got out of my car to see you lurking the bushes. It's so nice of you to pay me a visit." She went to touch him, and he flinched away. A surprised look came to her face. "You came looking for me." She reminded him, wondering about his reaction.

"It was a mistake." He said, then realized it was totally the wrong thing to say when she stepped in close and her fist flew out catching him on the side of the jaw. He jumped back as another blow came in, this one aimed at his ribs. He blocked and backed away even more.

"I'm sorry. Fi I. Didn't. Mean it like. That." His speech was punctuated by dodging her blows.

A particularly hard kick made his ear ring, he had forgotten how high she could get her foot. He reacted without thinking, as his temper snapped. A hard open handed slap landed on her cheek with a loud crack.

It had been a hard blow, delivered with all his strength, it had sent her back across the room and on to her knees. "I warned you." He growled, his body was trembling, his eyes locked on the side of her face which was bright red and swollen, her eyes full of tears were locked on him.

"Get out." She spat, getting to her feet she started towards him. A vase came flying at his head, he ducked it easily and it shattered to one side of him, shards of glass spraying out across the room. Her hands were on his chest now, pushing him backwards, then as he started to yield, one tightly formed fist came up in a vicious punch to his nose. He grabbed at her wrists and she began to struggle kicking out at him.

Tears were running down her face now and she was cursing him in every language she knew. He changed his hold, wrapping his arms tightly round her, pining her arms to her sides. He grunted as kick after kick landed on his shins, and then she bit him, hard on the neck drawing blood. With a curse of his own he threw her back across the room.

He stood for a moment breathing hard, he wiped a hand under his bloody nose and gently touched the bite on his neck. She was staring at him like a very angry cat waiting for a chance to pounce. He drew on the last shreds of his self control and turned to leave.

He had taken two steps towards the door, when she landed on his back. "No you don't. I want to know why?" She tried to lock him in a choke hold.

He threw her off his back, and on to the floor, dropping down on top of her to stop her struggling. He had a wrist in each hand and pinned them down as well. They stared at each other, their faces inches off each other. Both of them trying to regain some sort of control of their tempers. Michael could feel her deep ragged breathing beneath him, matching his own. Her breath on his face, her scent. It was making him reel.

He felt her tense and he sat down harder and tightened his hands on her wrists. "Fi." He gasped. "Enough."

She pushed her upper body off the floor and placed a hard demanding kiss on his lips. He pulled away in surprise letting go of her wrists. Her arms came up instantly locking around his neck, not allowing him to escape. She pressed her lips hard against his, her tongue running along his teeth. Her hands in his hair, her nails scratching his scalp. His body jerked as he suddenly began to return her kiss his teeth parting, his hands pulling at her clothing. Not caring about buttons or fasteners.

There was nothing romantic about their actions it was still a fight, as she forcefully broke through his reserves, tearing at him until he surrendered. The wall that he had put up around all the anger and confusion came tumbling down he matched her aggression every step of the way.

Finally they lay there sated, she went to get up and his arms wrapped round her pulling her close into his body. "I'm sorry.. I." He mumbled into her ear.

"Ssh." She stroked her hand through his sweat soaked hair. Relaxing as much as she could into his tight embrace. "We can't spend the night here on the floor." She eased his arms loose. "Let's go to bed." She climbed to her feet and held out her hand helping him to his feet and leading him into her bedroom.

He was asleep within moments of his head hitting the pillow, she lay watching him as his body twitched and jerked. She pulled him round until his head rested on her shoulder, one of his arms across her stomach.

She lay there staring up at the ceiling, her eyes full of tears.. Wondering what the hell they were going to do now.

A/N: For all those who wanted Fiona to vent, some of her frustration.


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter Forty Four,

.

It didn't matter how exhausted she felt Fiona could not get off to sleep. Every now again she ran a soothing hand down Michael's back or through his hair as he continued to fidget and twitch. Looking down at him she could see his eyes moving under the lids as he dreamed. Whenever she attempted to move, his body tensed holding her still, it was as if now he had hold of her, he wasn't prepared to let her go.

She rested her chin on top of his head, her arms wrapped around him, supporting him, trying to give him comfort. Even as exhausted as she was, her mind kept trying to process the evening events. Wondering what had happened to the man she loved. Because the man lying naked in her arms might look like her Michael, might feel like him and even smell like him, but he certainly wasn't acting like him.

This Michael had stared at her with cold emotionless eyes, and a ruthless expression. This Michael had raged against her with an almost scary intensity, until finally he was too worn out to continue. Even now, in his sleep, this Michael was only a shell of her Michael. She let out a heart felt sigh, the movement enough to cause him tighten his grip on her, a low moan escaping his lips.

It seemed like an age before, finally she felt him slip into a deeper sleep. The tension disappearing from his muscles, the arm across her stomach relaxing. She carefully eased her body into a more comfortable position, tomorrow she would try and find out what had happened to her Michael. Closing her eyes she drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep.

...

Michael woke up as sun light began to flood into the bedroom through the open blinds. He lay still for a few minutes trying to get his bearings. Listening to Fiona's heart beating under his ear, her hip pressed against his abdomen. Carefully he disentangled himself from her arms and legs. Pausing for a moment to gaze at her sleeping figure, he couldn't resist running his fingers through her hair feeling the texture between his finger tips. His eyes were drawn to the bruising on her cheek and lip from where he had hit her. He bit his lower lip, as he thought about the previous night, thinking about how badly he could have hurt her without realizing it.

He got out of the bed as quietly as he could, this was not good, he could have killed her. He searched round the floor for his clothes, and couldn't find them. He padded out into the lounge and came to a stop when he saw the damage they had wrought. There was broken glass scattered across the floor, most likely from the vase he remembered narrowly dodging as she had thrown it at his head. A chair was over turned, one of the legs broken off. The sofa cushions were spread over the floor, a rug crumpled up pushed against a table which was on it's side. A couple of broken ornaments lying amongst the other wreckage. There was blood on the floor, and a few more spots on one of the walls. His hand went to gently touch his nose, he hoped it was all his blood, and not from something he had done.

Spotting his clothes, he picked them up. Slipping on his boxers, he then checked out the damage done to the rest of his belongings. The shirt and under shirt were both ruined, blood splattered and ripped. He threw both items back on to the floor. His pants were luckily still wearable, a quick check and he was relieved to discover his keys and wallet were still in the pockets. Once he was as dressed as he could get, he started towards the door. He could have killed her last night, and it was purely the fact that she knew how to look after herself that he hadn't done any permanent damage.

"So you're running away. Again." He stopped, his hand in the process of opening the front door. Dropping his head down, he shut the door and turned to face her. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." Her voice was loud and clear.

"I could have killed you." He spoke quietly, barely above a whisper. His eyes shut tightly. _Please Fiona, don't start on me. Not now._ He didn't want to fight.

"But you didn't. Don't you think I deserve an explanation?" She asked.

Raising his eyes he could see the hurt on her face from across the room. He couldn't stop himself, he reached her in a couple of strides and enclosed her in his arms, holding her tight against his bare chest. It didn't matter what he did, he was going to hurt her.

"It's for the best." He replied, planting a kiss on the top of her head. Not an explanation exactly, but the best he could do.

She pulled out of his grasp. "For the best? That's the all you've got to say?" She wanted to be angry with him, but she was so tired.

She watched him turn away, becoming more confused. What game was he playing? With his head down, he was moving towards the door again. He looked defeated. "Michael you walk out of here now, and you're on your own. I can't keep this up, I can't watch you ruin your life."

She thought he would keep walking out of the door, but he stopped, pausing for a moment before turning back to her. She held her breath as he slowly returned to the lounge. "Ok." He agreed, leaning his back against the wall he ran his fingers through his hair. "You're right, I can't do this on my own. I need your help."

She couldn't hide her relief, a soft smile breaking out on her face. "I'm glad you're finally admitting it. Now, why don't you go and have a shower, and after we've had some breakfast you can tell me what's going on." She wanted to give him a chance to relax. He still looked like he was getting ready to bolt.

Nodding his agreement he headed towards the door she indicated. "There's plenty of towels, and I kept a couple of your shirts. I'll find you one." She watched him disappear through the door into the bathroom.

Hearing the shower begin to run she went into the kitchen. Pushing the door shut she reached for her phone. She couldn't do this on her own.

…...

"Sammy. Sammy. For the love of god answer that phone." Sam's new lady friend, prodded him in the side with a sharp elbow before burying her head under a pillow. Hangovers were never fun, especially after you reached a certain age and should know better.

Sam rolled over, reaching across her body. Picking up his phone he held it to his ear. "Yeah." He murmured, trying to get his eyes to open.

"Sam can you come round to my place." He was sat up now, instantly alert. Fiona's voice was barely above a whisper.

"What's up?" He asked, flinching as a pillow hit him on the back of the head.

"Just send me a text when you arrive don't use the intercom." She rang off.

"Who was that Sammy." Caroline breathed into his ear, snuggling up against him hangover forgotten.

"A friend, it sounds like she may have a problem." He was getting up, planting a kiss onto her lips while gently pulling her arms from around his neck.

"She?" She pouted. Watching him search for, and then put on his clothes.

"A friend, that's all. Now I've got to go, but I will definitely be back later, Ok beautiful."

"You better be." She called out as he shut the door on her.

…...

By the time Michael came out of the shower, Fiona had laid out a breakfast spread on the table out on her balcony. She had just finished eating her omelet, and was taking the last sip from her cup of tea.

"No yoghurts, sorry. I wasn't expecting you." She commented, watching him rub his hair dry with a towel. "But there's enough eggs and some bacon if you want something cooked."

He took a seat, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "No this is fine, honest."

"I'm going to have a shower and get dressed." She glanced at her watch. Sam would be here in about another ten minutes. "Make sure you eat something." She went to touch him, just to run a hand along his arm. But she stopped herself, unsure how he would react.

"Yes Ma'am." He gave her a smile, just a small upward curve of his lips.

…

Once in his car Sam checked his handgun, Fiona had never invited him round to her home. Their meetings had always taken place at Mike's, Madeline's or somewhere public. Also she had been whispering and didn't want to have to buzz him in. She wanted him to make a silent entry. Had someone broken in? It had to be serious for her to call him for help. He left his girlfriend's at speed heading towards Fiona's apartment, hoping the roads weren't going to be too busy.

It had taken him half an hour to reach Fiona's, _damn early morning traffic_. He parked up next to her car and got out taking a look around. He was impressed, Arson, Larceny and general mayhem definitely paid well if she could afford a place like this.

He sent the text as he neared the front doors, still looking around expecting at any second to be jumped on by some heavily armed lunatic. It would have to be a lunatic, nobody sane went after Fiona Glenanne in her own home.

A message came through. _Door's open, I'm on the sixth just let yourself in, quietly._

Walking into her apartment, with his gun at the ready. He came to a stop, shock registering on his face. "Jeez what happened to you?" She was waiting for him just inside the door.

Her hair was still damp, freshly washed hanging in two braids. He barely registered the shorts and silk camisole she wore. Instead he was staring at her face, the bruised eye and swollen cheek, then he noticed other bruises on her wrists as if she had been held down.

"Fi. What's happened?" He couldn't hide his concern. Trying to look passed her, the lounge looked like some sort of fight had taken place. He thought he could see dried blood spots on the marble floor.

"Michael. Happened" She spoke quietly, taking a quick glance over her shoulder.

"Mike did this to you?" He shook his head in disbelieve, this was a step to far. Why on earth would he attack her.

"It's not what you think." She told him, reading his expression. "Michael is here, out on the balcony. We got in to a fight last night, it isn't what it looks like." She had a hand on his chest, stopping him moving to confront his best friend.

"It looks like he beat the crap out of you Fi, and then, what you let him stay?" He never fully understood their relationship, but this definitely wasn't right. Then realization struck him, he remembered that they tended to have a very physical relationship at times. "So, what's happening?" His complexion a little pink, but his expression still disapproving. _Michael better have a damn good explanation, for what he had done._

"I don't know. He's, he's not himself." She lent back against the wall and wiped a hand over her eyes. "I've just sat up half the night watching him. I think there is something wrong with him." It scared her to admit it.

Sam gave her a serious look. "Something wrong? You don't say."

"Let it go Sam, you'll see what I mean when you see him." She snapped.

"Ok, calm down. I'm still waiting to hear from Jesse, maybe he'll be able to tell us what's up. Or maybe Mike will break a habit of a life time and actually tell us something useful." He couldn't help the sarcasm.

"And even if he does, do we believe what he tells us." She added, thinking about all the lies he had told them recently.

"There he is." Sam managed a fast grin as Michael suddenly appeared behind Fiona, his expression wary and a little hostile.

"You didn't tell me Sam was coming round?" Michael commented, he was smiling now. It was that toothy fake smile he had learnt from Larry. It didn't reach his eyes which were cold and guarded.

"It's not a problem is it?" Fiona straightened up, speaking briskly, she pushed him back slightly. "Let's go and sit down, and catch up on what's been going on."

He didn't look happy with the idea, but conceded with a slight bow of his head. He led the way through the house and outside. Sam followed, frowning at the state of Fiona's lounge, it looked like one of her bombs had gone off in the room. He had also noticed the bruises on Michael's face and neck, taken with the state of Fiona's face he was determined that at least for a while they shouldn't be left alone.

Michael sat down carefully, on one of the wicker chairs, he was favouring several bruised ribs. He accepted a cup of coffee Fiona held out to him, and then frowned slightly when she took a seat next to Sam. "So, why were you lurking in the bushes last night?" Fiona asked, her elbows leaning on the table, her chin cradled in her hands.

"I just wanted to see you." He told her, honestly. Fake smile still firmly in place. He had known she would want answers sooner rather than later. He hadn't realized until now she had just been waiting for re-enforcements.

"And what's been going on with you?" Sam asked the next question.

"I'm back in, well sort of at least. They're not giving me a lot of freedom at the moment." He looked from one to the other. "I'm not considered trustworthy I suppose." He had heard them speaking in the hallway, they didn't trust him either.

"You've done a lot of crazy stuff recently Mikey." Sam reprimanded him.

"yeah, well I guess we can't all be boy scouts either can we." He snapped without thinking. Why did everybody think they could treat him like a child.

"That sounds an awful lot like Larry speaking Mikey." Sam commented. Fiona was right, something was wrong.

"I'm not Larry." Michael replied, he put down the cup of coffee.

"Michael?" Fiona spoke quietly, putting a hand over the table, close to his. "We're not your enemy, we're just worried about you."

He took a breath, trying to control the anger that was bubbling just beneath the surface. He wasn't ready to justify his actions.

"Sorry, I guess I'm a little tense that's all." He smiled.

Sam frowned, there was that fake insincere smile again. "Mikey you're going to have to trust us if you want our help."

"I do trust you Sam." Came the reply. "I've told you what I'm doing. What about Palisade, what have you found out?"

"Just the name wasn't enough for me to find out anything Mike, I need more information to narrow down the search. To be honest though if you're back in, The Feds'll have far better access than I can get."

Michael got to his feet, he lent over the railing for a moment then began to pace. _Why couldn't they_ _just do as he asked, just for once no questions.  
_

"They don't want me looking into it. I'm a sort of do as you're told no questions asked, type of asset at the moment." He admitted.

"Ok, so what have you got on Palisade?" Sam asked, not liking at what Michael was hinting at.

"They're a shipping company, into everything. Domestic and international freight, also they have military contracts. I wouldn't be surprised to find a mercenary group in there as well, masquerading as private security. I think it's the backbone of Vaughn's operation."

"And you're the only one to notice it?" Sam was dubious, it was either a set up or Michael's paranoia was reaching a whole new level. Personally he was leaning towards the paranoia, as he watched Michael pace the width of the balcony.

"I don't know Sam. That's why I asked you to look into it." Came the waspish response. "Do you think you can do that?"

"Ok, I'll look into it. Why don't you take a seat, get some rest."

"why don't you.."

"Michael. While Sam checks this out for you. Why don't we go and see if we can get you some fresh clothes. There's an outlet store close by, it won't stock designer suits but maybe some jeans and shirts?" Fiona was on her feet now, hoping to head off the argument that was brewing.

They watched him warily, as he continued to move back and forth. Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. Finally coming to a halt he nodded, not saying another word Fiona took hold of his arm and after shooting Sam a worried look. She led Michael towards the door. Things were a lot than worse than she thought.

Sam watched Fiona more or less drag Michael out of the apartment. Fiona, and clothes shopping, meant they would be gone for quite some time. He switched on Fi's computer, and typed in 'complications caused by concussion.' Not liking what he read.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter Forty Five,

.

Michael sat quietly in the passenger seat of Fiona's car as she sped through the traffic to the nearby outlet store. He was not looking forward to this, he should have stayed at the apartment. Shopping with Fiona usually involved him following her around as she tried on a variety of outfits, complimenting her on her choice and then carrying the bags. He had always found it a long drawn out process, and tedious in the extreme. Something he normally only subjected himself to if he had done something particularly thoughtless, as a sort of penance.

He gave a deep sigh as they pulled into a large car park, which thankfully looked half empty. Parking as close to the store as she could get, Fiona looked across at him spotting the pained expression he was wearing.

"Oh relax Michael, it's a little bit of shopping. You're not being asked to invade a foreign embassy to steal top secret information." Fiona got out of the car and waited for him to join her. With another sigh, he got out slowly, and looked over at the store. If he had a choice he'd have taken the embassy job rather than what he faced now.

"Let's make this quick please." He requested, not liking the way she grinned back at him.

Dropping his head down Michael followed her inside, expecting the worst. The place wasn't too crowded, which was one worry put to rest, though it didn't stop him risk assessing every person who came near him, looking for hidden weapons.

He took whatever Fiona handed him with barely a glance. Jeans, t shirts, a couple of casual shirts and underwear. He was pleasantly surprised, when instead of dragging him over to the women's clothing section, she allowed him to pay for his purchases and then leave.

He visibly relaxed when they stepped outside, walking back towards the where Fiona had parked the car they looked like any other couple. She was surprised when he gently took hold of her hand as they walked along.

"How do you feel about stopping off on the way back and getting something in for lunch?" She suggested.

"How about we go get Sam, and I pay for us to eat out? We could go wherever you like, maybe to the beach?" Michael replied.

"Ok, but somewhere quiet, I know a little place serves great sea food." This was more like her Michael. Now if he would just stop eyeing everyone who came near them as if they were potential hostiles, she would be able to relax completely.

He stopped walking and turned her to face him. "You're worried about me?"

She looked into his clear blue eyes, for once his expression at least appeared to be open. She just wished she could be sure. His lips twitched into a small smile. Making her respond in kind.

"I'm fine now, honest. I just need some time to.. You know?" He shrugged, reaching out slowly he lifted an errant piece hair from where it had blown across her face, his fingers brushed lightly over her cheek as he returned the stray locks to behind her ear. His hand stayed there for a moment, caressing her neck. He began to lean in as if about to kiss her, but checked himself. Moving back slightly he dropped his hand.

"We should go." He began to move towards the car again. She followed him, hoping he was right and he just needed sometime to acclimatize after all he had been through. She ran her own hand through her hair, feeling where his hand had been just before.

Reaching the car, Fiona drove them back to her apartment building, both lost in their own thoughts. Michael got his bags out of the trunk and followed her towards the doors. "Fi, how did you get the money for this place?" He asked. Studying the building in daylight for the first time.

"Helping some people out of their financial difficulties." She replied holding the door open for him.

"How did you help them?"

"Oh I don't think you need to know that Michael." She grinned at him, getting into the elevator.

…...

Sam had been staring at Fiona's computer screen for over an hour, his fingers idly tapping on the table. He was staring at all the worrying words that were popping up before his eyes. He had seen Michael's medical reports when Larry's inside man Cohen had shown them to him. He remembered the report, two concussions, the first not fully healed before he received the second. He read about the dangers of two head injuries so close together. Michael could have died, from the concussions alone.

He got up, to get a beer from Fiona's fridge. This research called for beer, or something stronger. He continued to read about the effects of post concussion syndrome. He didn't know if Michael was still suffering from headaches or dizziness. But he was definitely showing signs of irritability, restlessness and mood swings. He scanned down the page looking at treatment and recovery. Great, rest and minimizing stress seemed to be the main treatment. And recovery could happen at anytime, or not at all.

He took a long drink from the bottle, Michael either had a serious head injury effecting his judgement, or the time he spent with Larry and all that had happened had changed him completely. Neither was a good choice. He finished the beer, before saving the pages of information to show Fiona when she got back.

He ran his hands over his head, and went to stand on the balcony, looking out towards the sea. Surely Michael must have been given a medical to clear him to work? He thought about calling Jack Faye, he even went as far as reaching for the phone in his pocket.

But stopped, Faye wouldn't tell him anything. If Michael was sick and they had him working, it meant Faye authorized it. Instead he was going to have to try and speak to Michael, and find out what the doctors told him. That was going to be fun conversation. He went to get another beer.

Hearing the front door unlocking, and the sound of Fiona's voice. Sam quickly crossed the room to switch off the computer, and then put a welcoming smile on his face.

"Michael is offering to buy us lunch." Fiona announced as she breezed into the room. "Apparently he is now independent, Uncle Sam has unfrozen his accounts."

"Hey that's great." Sam was on his feet, he was hoping to get a chance to speak to Fiona on her own. Get her opinion on what to say to Michael. He looked across at his friend, noting that the earlier tension seemed to have disappeared. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he was worrying over nothing. He took a long swig from the bottle in his hand.

"I'm going to go and get changed." Michael said, heading for the bedroom. "Fiona has all ready picked where she wants to go."

"Fi." Sam gestured, for her to follow him over to the computer. "I've been doing some research."

While waiting for the screen to switch on, Sam explained. "I had an idea, Mikey acting the way he is, was down to the concussions he's had. I mean two so close together is pretty dangerous, and the last one was only a month ago. So I looked it up on the internet." He brought up the pages he had saved.

She read through quickly, skimming over some of it. "Is it permanent?" She asked, worry creasing her brow.

"Can be, rest and a lack of stress seems to be the only cure." He took a pause. "We need to ask him what he's been told. He said he's been working, so he must have been given a medical."

Michael came out of the bedroom, dressed in his new clothes. "Well, are you ready to go?" He asked looking from one to the other. He felt a twinge of paranoia rising. Had they been talking about him? They were looking guilty about something.

Fiona smiled, coming up alongside him wrapping her arms around one of his. She looked up at him. "Before we go out I want to get this place tidy. I hadn't realized how bad it really was. It won't take long."

He lowered his gaze to stare her. "Ok. Where do we start?" He asked.

"How about you get a broom, and sweep up all the glass and then you can vacuum, while me and Sam move the furniture." She suggested.

"You and Sam move Furniture? Why don't you vacuum, and I'll help Sam?"

It was the opening Fiona had hoped to create. She started walking Michael towards the kitchen to get the broom. "What did the doctors say about you doing heavy lifting?" She asked innocently.

Michael had the broom and was walking back into the lounge. "What doctor?" He asked. Then he stopped, he could see where this was going. "Fi, what doctor?"

"Before you were reinstated didn't you get a medical?" Sam asked.

Michael paused thinking about it. "No, but what does it matter?" He started sweeping, then stopped when he realized he was the only one moving.

"Guys?"

"We're just a little worried that's all." Fiona told him. "You've been injured, and.. well you've been acting a little off."

He rested the broom against the wall and stared at the floor, raking his fingers through his hair. Before finally looking at them. "I get it you're worried. But have you considered I might be _a little off. _Because I spent nearly three weeks locked in a cell, the only contact was with an interrogator who told me I was most likely going to spend the rest of my life locked up." He started to walk up and down the room. "I'm only out now because I'm doing their dirty work." He admitted, his tone becoming more angry with every word.

"Mike, we think it's more than a bit..." Sam closed his mouth.

Michael continued to pace but he was staring directly at Sam. "And I'm saying it isn't. I just need a bit of space. What I don't need is friends analysing my every damn move." His tone daring Sam to argue with him. His expression furious.

"Really Mikey." Sam wasn't backing down. "So all the lies, and following Larry's lead that was just you? And what about now? Is this you acting rationally, the cool headed spy?" Sam was angry now, all his frustration and concern boiling over as Michael continued to pace in front of him. "And please for the love of god. Try and stand still will ya because you're driving me crazy."

Michael stopped and stared at Sam, his mouth open at the outburst. Fiona and Sam, both waiting to see what his reaction was going to be. Sam expected to get hit. Fiona was getting ready to try and pull Michael off Sam when he attacked.

Instead Michael continued to stand and stare. His chest rising and falling in deep breaths. He could only think of a couple of times when Sam had disagreed with him so vehemently. On those occassions, the older man had always been proved right.

Sam and Fiona watched as Michael massaged his temples, his eyes squeezed shut. Fiona reached out to touch his arm, to offer some comfort. At her touch Michael's eyes flew open and he pushed her away. Holding up a hand to ward them off.

"We've noticed that you're not yourself." Fiona spoke softly, trying to get through to him. Wanting to go to him but stopping herself. "We think you might have post concussion syndrome it causes mood swings, and it can make it hard to concentrate. We've saved the pages off the internet for you."

They waited to see how he took the news. "Does it get better?" He asked.

"If you rest and stay away from stressful activities." Sam answered the question. "I know, you're Michael Westen and everyday is an adventure, but we need you to chill out. Try being me for a couple of weeks, see if that helps." He tried to break the tension.

"You want me to get drunk and a find an older divorced lady friend to bum off?" He replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't knock it Mike, my stress levels only go up when I'm working with you." This was going better than he had hoped. At one point he thought they might have to attempt to tie him down.

"So what now?" He couldn't help it the compulsion was too strong, he was off walking around the room.

"So you need to rest. While we figure this out." Fiona answered. They continued to watch him pace, wanting to help him, but unsure how.

After a few minutes he suddenly spoke, his voice sounding strained. "I need to get out of here." He announced heading for the door.

"Michael! Wait, you have to rest." Fiona gripped his arm, feeling the tension in the bunched up muscles under her hand.

He shrugged her off. "Please Fi, I need. I just need some time to think about this. I'll be back."

She caught hold of him again, risking a violent reaction determined to stop him if she could. He came to a halt and held her by her shoulders, looking into her eyes. "I promise I'll be back. I just need sometime alone." Letting go off her he left the apartment, not waiting for the elevator he ran down the stairs.

Fiona watched him disappear down the stair well. "Shouldn't we go after him?"

"Leave him Fi, he said he'll come back. I think this maybe one of those make or break moments. We can only help him if he wants it." Sam replied.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter forty six,

.

Michael reached the bottom of the stairwell, and headed out into the Miami sunshine. The light instantly hurt his eyes, it was only then he remembered he had left his sun glasses upstairs. It wasn't enough of an incentive to make him turn round.

Squinting against the sunlight, he walked briskly along the pavement, he had no idea where he was going. For now he just had to keep moving. His mind flitting from one thought to another, never settling long enough for him to make sense of it all. Just like when he was locked up he had to try and tire himself out enough to clear his mind.

He kept up the fast walking pace until a level of calm began to settled over him. Breathing deeply, he became aware of the pain building in his leg, the area around the scar was throbbing, the muscles beginning to knot. Searching around he spotted a wooden bench shaded by a large tree in a small park across the street from where he stood.

Sitting down he stretched out his injured leg, and as he massaged the knotted muscles it struck him that it was listening to his friends voicing the same concerns he had tried to bury away, that had sent him over the edge.

As a spy the ability to think fast, and keep a clear head were essential skills. If he could no longer do either he was no good to anyone. A danger to himself and everybody around him. His enemies would see him as an easy target, if he was lucky they would just want to kill him. If he was unlucky they would see it as a chance to exploit him.

It had been easier for him to think his behaviour was a reaction to being confined, all the frustration of being blamed for things he had no control over. But if he was honest with himself, deep down he knew it was more than that. He was far more ready to reach for a gun than he had ever been in the past. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to control his temper, every nerve felt like it was stretched to it's limit, and the slightest thing could make him snap.

What was worse it was only in moments of complete clarity that he had any remorse about what he did. With everything that had happened, he was finding some of Larry's doctrine making more and more sense. _Some one points a gun at you, kill them, do it quick and move on. In this business, if you want a long life, you can't afford to be sentimental._

He lent back, the muscles in his leg had finally relaxed. He flexed it a few times to be sure it had recovered and gave a relieved sigh. If he could just sort out his head as easily.

He was no nearer deciding what to do. Sam and Fiona thought they could help him. But what if in a fit of anger he hurt one of them. Or what if they got caught in the crossfire when his enemies realized just how incapacitated he was. He shook his head. That wasn't the answer.

He had a job, and he thought he had done good on his first assignment. It was maybe not the type thing he usually did, but he didn't have a lot of choices. But there was trust issues now, it had taken Sam to point them out to him, he'd had no medical clearance, was the work he was doing even sanctioned? He had known they didn't trust him, but now he didn't trust them either. How can you do a good job if you can't trust your back up?

That left working on his own. He wasn't sure he could do that either. His mind started to go off in circles again, plenty of questions but not a single answer.

He froze, he thought he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Cautiously he looked around, expecting to see Fiona or Sam keeping an eye on him from a distance. If not them some of Smith's men, his new handler had promised him he would be under surveillance.

There was nobody there, at least nobody he could see. That of course didn't mean he was wrong. Just that whoever was watching him knew their job. He got to his feet and casually did a few leg stretches still searching for an unseen enemy.

Well whoever it was could try and keep up with him. He started to jog, building up into a run as he left the park and headed towards the more crowded areas of the beach. He pounded along the pavement using store windows, car mirrors and any other shiny reflective surface he could, trying to see if he was still being followed. There was nothing, no one else was running along the pavement and he couldn't spot any slow moving cars trailing after him.

After a mile he was getting tired, his lungs were still not at their best and his leg was beginning to throb again. He slowed to a walk and mingled with the holidaymakers. The feeling was still there, now accompanied by tiredness and a raging headache. Maybe he was wrong? Doubt was a killer in his line of work. Hesitate and you were dead, or captured and wishing you were dead.

The crowd was not helping his state of mind, too many people to watch and every time someone knocked against him it sent his anxiety levels up another notch. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and his hands itched with the need to hold a gun or any weapon.

He stopped outside a small cafe, the outside tables were full, but inside there was plenty of empty spaces. He found a table, where he could sit with his back to the wall with good line of sight on all the exits. After ordering an iced tea he got his phone out and dialled Fiona's cell.

"Fi, I need you to come and get me. I'm at the.." He looked up at the name of the Cafe. "Playa d'oro Cafe. You know it?" He slipped his phone back into his pocket, trying to remain calm while he waited.

…...

Sam watched Fiona from the balcony as she set about the cleaning the apartment. He had offered to help, but she had told him rather abruptly she wanted to do it all by herself. He was just as worried about Mike as she was, but he knew that there was no way they could force him to accept help. Whereas Fiona thought she could cajole him into doing what she wanted or maybe beat him into submission if necessary.

He watched her struggle to move the large sofa back across the room, but didn't offer to help her. He knew full well she would bite his head off if he did. He could see her lips moving, and knew she was cursing, working out her issues on her furniture.

Sam looked away, leaving her to work through her anger. Choosing instead to look out at the view, while switching his attention back to trying to figure out what his old friend Jack Faye was playing at. What could the man gain by having an obviously disturbed asset working in the field. He had to have a reason for it, Michael was being used for something nasty. Presumably they thought him too damaged to be worth saving.

Sam remembered Michael's obsession with Palisade Logistics, the intelligence must have been dropped into his lap deliberately. Faye was setting him up for something. Sam reached for Fiona's computer and started searching out all the information he could find on the company. Because he was sure of one thing, if anything happened to his friend he was going to make sure somebody paid.

They both jumped when Fiona's cell phone began to ring. They were both on their way out of the door as soon as Michael said he needed picking up.

"So what are we going to do with him?" Fiona asked. Driving slowly, trying to find a parking spot.

"Try and get him to rest, I've got a buddy works at a local VA hospital I'm going to see if he can get Mike in for a CT scan just to make sure there's nothing else wrong with him. Then." He gave a shrug. "Let's see what comes back." He pointed to a parking spot, the cafe just a little bit further along the street.

They found Michael sat in the back, in the darkest corner of the cafe. Outwardly he looked calm, his features schooled not to show emotion. But his friends could spot the tension in his back, the way he was sitting a little bit too straight, his legs drawn back ready for him to spring to his feet in an instant.

He had seen them enter, and had instantly felt better, however he waited a moment until he was sure they hadn't been followed before getting to his feet and joining them. He didn't speak, just followed Sam back out onto the street, allowing Fiona to wrap an arm round his waist her hand a comforting presence on his back. He didn't speak to them or even look at them. Just meekly followed their lead, this was him admitting something was wrong, and that he needed help.

It wasn't until they were back inside Fiona's apartment that Michael started to show signs of relaxing, tiredness was etched into his features. The stress had wiped him out. He slumped down on one of Fiona's arm chairs, resting his head back within in seconds his eyelids had slid shut. For a few more minutes he listened to Fiona and Sam talk and move around. Then he finally dropped off into a deep sleep. He felt safe for the first time in a very long time. He wasn't even aware of Fiona kneeling in front of him to pull his shoes off.

Sam stayed for an hour, but there was really nothing more he could do at the apartment. It was getting late and he needed to let his present lady friend down gently. It was something he could do best face to face, hopefully she would understand and not join the long list of lady friends lost to working jobs.

"Fi, I'm going home for a couple of hours, any problems give us a call." He did one final check on Michael who was still out cold. "Remember rest and relaxation." He looked round the room rather pointedly. "No more gymnastics." He left quickly before she could comeback with a retort.

…**..**

Caroline, Sam's latest flame was not all that understanding. She had recently divorced a husband who put work before everything else. She did not want a boyfriend who did the same thing. It didn't matter how charming he was, or how he tried to explain his good intentions.

Luckily he had only met her a week ago so he still had most of his belongings in storage. So with no hard feelings and a promise to see each other around sometime. He picked up his two large canvas hold alls and got back in his car.

Settling down in the drivers seat Sam checked his watch, his buddy at the VA should be off duty. Time for a drink and a little chat about how to get Mike in for a CT scan under a false name. Once he knew it was possible, he would then tackle the task of getting Michael to agree to the tests. One problem at a time.

The thought was still in his head when his cell phone began to ring. Struggling to get the phone out of his pocket he looked at the caller ID, a frown forming on his face. After a moment he pressed the accept button.

…**...**

"I want Westen on the Dawson job." Director Faye wasted no time on pleasantries, his tone crisp and business like.

"He's on leave, I told him he was off the books until after the verdict came in on Fort Lauderdale." The man known as John Smith replied, he was sat at his desk still working.

"Well, now you tell him his leave is cancelled. Two more days and I want him briefed and ready to go."

"Sir, with all due respect, Westen isn't exactly ready for any major assignment and I haven't even seen anything on this Dawson job."

"It's need to know, you'll have a file on your desk tomorrow." The call ended abruptly with Jack Faye putting the phone down and leaning back in his chair. He was at home in his study, with the door locked.

"There it's done." He turned the chair round to face the grinning man who stood in the corner of the room. "Now you keep up your end of the bargain and get the hell out of my life." He sounded angry, but there was fear in his eyes.

"That's no way to talk to an old friend Jack. After all I did for you back in the day." The voice was calm and smooth. Totally unfazed by Faye's anger.

"We're not friends, we were never friends. Now I want you to leave and keep me out of whatever it is you're planning." Faye got out of his chair and opened the wide double doors that led outside.

"No wave goodbye from the front step? You're hurting my feelings Jack. You might want to check that attitude." Stepping out of the corner, Larry Sizemore slowly walked to the open doors. He was amused at the way he had the Director Of the FBIs Miami office jumping through hoops.

He stopped just outside the doors. "Oh, and Jack if I need you to do something for me I will expect you to do it. You have a nice home, a good job and your wife seems to have recovered from that nasty incident that I cleaned up for you. You don't want to risk all that, do you?" With a final smirk, Larry sauntered off across the lawn. It was good to have friends in high places.


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter forty seven,

.

Sam struggled to get his phone out of his trouser pocket as he sat in his car. Studying the caller ID, a frown formed on his face. After taking a moment to collect his thoughts he pressed the accept button.

"Hey Maddy what can I do for you?" He forced a cheerful note into his greeting. He really didn't need to be dealing with Michael's mother right now.

"Hey Sam. My washer has stopped working can you come and fix it?" She didn't waste any time getting to the reason for her call. She was using the slightly whiny, needy tone that drove Michael to distraction.

"Well, Maddy I'm kinda busy at the..." He tried to wriggle out of spending the early evening crouched down trying to fix an ancient washing machine.

"Please Sam, I can't afford a plumber and with my angina I don't want to drive all the way..." She interrupted him, upping the whine in her voice just a little.

He knew she wouldn't let up until he agreed to go round to see her. With a heart felt sigh, he gave up the fight. "Ok, ok I'll come over now."

"Thank you Sam." Her tone brightened now she had got her own way. "Don't take too long." She hung up on him. He stared at his phone for a moment, over the last three weeks he had been called out to deal with all sorts of emergencies. He knew he would have to think of an excuse to get out quick if he was going to get anything done.

..

She must have been sat waiting for him, the front door was open before he had reached the top step. "Hey Maddy, so what's the problem?" He hurried passed her.

He jumped slightly as the door slammed shut behind him.

"You can explain to me why _my son_ was standing out in the street last night staring at the house, and I knew nothing about it. Until Mrs Rivers asked me about it an hour ago?" Came the sharp worded question.

He slowly turned to face her, staring into narrowed bright blue eyes.

"Because I was totally at a loss what to say to the old bat." She was emphasizing her words with the end of her cigarette, Sam was worried about her setting his shirt alight. He took a couple of rapid steps backwards.

"Ah- well. See. There's the thing." He floundered, realizing he had been ambushed.

"Ah-well. See." She mimicked his words, cigarette back in her mouth, and her hands on her hips.

"Ok. Geez." He surrendered, getting a beer from the fridge he took a long slow drink wanting time to gather his thoughts. He was a man in his fifties, for godsake. He had been in the military from being twenty years of age, damn it he had been a highy decorated SEAL. Yet she made him feel like he was a five years old.

"Sam!" She stamped her foot with impatience. "Tell me what is going on with my son."

"He's working." He told her the truth. "It's just a little bit too dangerous for him to come and see you right now." Well close enough to the truth.

"So he doesn't have access to a phone? Where is he?"

"Erm, I'm not quite sure at the moment." He graduated to out right lying.

"Really?" She drawled the word out, her eyes fixed on his face. "In that case you can run me over to Fiona's. I've not seen her new place and she's not been answering my calls today." She smirked at him, reading his expression. She had guessed right Michael was with Fiona.

Sam gave up completely, Madeline was not going to give up on finding out what Michael was up to. "Fine get your bag then and I'll take you over there." He might as well get it over with.

...

Jack Faye watched Larry disappear from sight. Only once he was sure the man had gone did he shut and lock the double doors, and then turn and unlock the door which led to the rest of his house. He stood for a moment resting his head against the heavy oak panelled door. "What have I done." He whispered.

He stood up straight and headed for the drinks cabinet. Collecting a full bottle of scotch and a glass he sat back down at his desk. He filled the glass up, and took a long drink, feeling the spirit biting the back of his throat.

Pulling the phone across the table he took another gulp of scotch, he had to speak to his wife before making a decision on what he was going to do next.

…...

The clatter from pots and pans being moved about brought Michael out of his sleep. Instantly awake he got to his feet looking around. Hearing more noise coming from the kitchen he went to investigate. Quietly pushing the kitchen door open, he peeked inside, Fiona was preparing a meal. He crept closer, it looked like she was working on some sort of lamb and rice concoction.

"Did you sleep well?" She spoke without looking round. He was impressed, his silent approach hadn't even fazed her.

"Yeah." He was right behind her, looking over her shoulder watching what she was doing. "Need any help?"

She pointed to a drawer. "Go set the table, you'll find everything you need in there." She stirred the meat, adding some chopped pepper to the pan.

With his hands full, holding on to a table cloth, place mats and cutlery he made his way over to Fiona's dining table. By the time he had everything in place she was walking into the room with two plates of food. "You'll find a couple of bottles of water in the fridge." She told him as she put the food on the table.

They sat down to their meal, Michael was happy to eat in silence. Sitting upright, he forked the food into his mouth chewed, swallowed and lifted another forkful up to his mouth. Fiona hated it when he ate in that mechanical manner, she also hated silence. So she began to fill Michael in on Sam's latest lady friend. This was like old times, easy relaxed chatter, and a bit of laughter at Sam's expense. The only thing missing, there was no talk about clients or the burn notice.

With the meal over, and the plates washed, Fiona suggested they sat outside and listened to the music coming from the bars and clubs below. Michael lent out as far over the railing as he could, taking in the full view. Trying to hide the fact he was looking for a surveillance team. Satisfied he turned around and fixed Fiona with a stare.

"So what's the plan now? You keep me here until we find out if I'm going crazy or not?"

Fiona was surprised by Michael's sudden question. She schooled her features into a picture of calm . "Sam saved some pages about concussion complications. You want to look at them?" She asked. "See what you think."

She watched him swallow, and then nod his head slowly. "Ok." While she went to get the folder Sam had made up, Michael took a seat and tried to quell the rising feeling of nausea.

He opened the folder and began reading, his eyebrows creasing as he concentrated. Fiona sat with her feet up on the table, chewing on the knuckle of her thumb watching him as he slowly read through each page. When he had finished he placed all the pages in the folder and pushed it one side.

"What now?" He asked quietly, there was nothing he could do about it, just wait and see if his brain healed. It was just over a month since the last head injury, his head slammed into the pavement by the car bomb. It was early days yet. He had to be positive.

"We want to get you into a hospital for a CT scan." She paused. "Just to make sure there is nothing else wrong."

His head snapped up at this. "Why! What else do you think it could be?"

She was saved from answering by the door buzzer going off. "It'll be Sam. You stay here. I'll go and let him in."

…...

Agent John Smith, was not happy about calling Michael Westen back into action. He had recently been working in the field himself and he knew all about the stress the job put you under. Then there was the assignment, he had never heard mention of any Dawson job. He reached over his desk and pressed the intercom button.

"Stacy, see if you can get me a file on Dawson. It'll be from Director Fayes office."

While he waited for the file he opened up the Michael Westen dossier again. Trying to work out why the Director was so keen on keeping Westen on assignments. The guy was good, but he'd be better if he got a proper rest.

He was interrupted by a knock on his door. Stacy, his secretary came in with a thin manila folder. She walked over holding it out for him. "The Director went home two hours ago sir, this was all his PA had on any Dawson assignment."

He took the folder and opened it up. "You can go home now, I'm going to work late." He told her.

"Thank you sir, good night." She left, shutting the door quietly behind her.

He didn't answer her he was too busy reading what little information the file held. There was a photo of a man in his mid thirties, thick dark hair soft features partially hidden by large thick rimmed glasses. Ross Dawson, chief accountant to Palisade Logistics. A Harvard business school graduate, who had worked for the white collar division of the FBI for six years before leaving to work for his Father's company. He had married the daughter of another of Palisades directors and they had two small children. On the surface this man didn't deserve a visit from Michael Westen.

Smith read the very short mission brief, Faye wanted Westen to find Dawson's home safe and find the company's missing account records. Apparently the ones that had been handed in did not satisfy the investigating team. He sorted through the papers, looking for the identity of the other team involved and found nothing.

He put the folder down on his desk, this assignment felt wrong. He dug out the Montez file and was even more uneasy when he discovered the pages that had mentioned Palisade were missing. He needed to talk this through with somebody. He reached for his phone, there was only one person he could think of who would be as invested in the outcome as himself.

…...

Michael stared at his mother as she came bustling into the apartment. He accepted her hug, breathing in the comforting scent of cheap perfume and cigarettes.

Releasing him from her tight embrace Madeline looked her son up and down, noticing the stiffness in his posture and the carefully arranged blank features. She saw the signs of a fight on his face, and what looked like a bite on his neck. His appearance giving her a flashback of how he used to look as a teenager after a beating from his father. Doing his best to hide his injuries, both physical and emotional.

"How are you?" She asked, running a hand over his cheek. His cheekbones were standing out more than normal, the skin drawn taunt over his bone structure. His eyes even more guarded than usual.

He had his hands on her shoulder's keeping her at arms distance. "Why are you here Ma? It's not safe." He was looking at Sam when he spoke the last three words.

"Oh don't have a go at Sam, I didn't give him any choice in the matter." Madeline told him, giving him a light smack on the arm.

He jerked as if he'd just received an electric shock letting go of her, and stepping back. Madeline was surprised at his reaction and the wary looks on his friends faces. There was more going on than they were telling her.

"Michael, let's go and have a nice sit down outside and you can tell me all about your new job." She beamed at him.

"Ma, I don't think now.." He was cut off by the cell phone Smith had given him ringing. He turned his back on them. "Sorry, I have to take this." He walked off, with the phone to his ear.

"Yeah?" They heard him answer the call, before he disappeared into the kitchen, shutting the door behind him.

Madeline turned back to Fiona and Sam. "One of you better tell me what's up with him." She hissed the words out, not wanting Michael to hear.

Fiona put on her best smile. "Madeline, he's just a little tense that's all. He's finding it a bit hard to readjust. You know, getting back to work."

"Uh-huh." Madeline stared into Fiona's wide blue-green eyes.

"Mom?" Michael was back in the room. "I need you to go home. I've gotta go to work." He announced, his tone flat.

None of them looked pleased about this announcement. "Mike are you sure you should..." Sam began to talk but he was cut off by Michael.

"I have no choice." Came the blunt reply. He was slipping his shoes on. "A car is waiting downstairs for me." He placed a kiss on Fiona's forehead, and gave his mother a squeeze on the arm. "Take care of them." He told Sam and was out of the door.

"Mike!" Sam followed him out. "Mike! Hold up will ya." He caught up to his friend as he pressed the elevator call button.

"What is it Sam?" Michael asked.

"If you're set on going, you should take back up." He handed Michael a small tracking device. "Keep that on you, so we can tail you."

Michael slipped the device into his pocket. He was staring at the floor, when his spoke his voice was so soft Sam had to strain to hear him. "Sam if anything happens to me. Take care of my mom and Fi."

"Mike if you're thinking that way, you should just tell them you quit." Sam couldn't hide his concern, it was never a good thing to go into a mission believing you weren't coming back.

The elevator arrived and Michael stepped inside. "I can't." He answered just as the doors slid shut.

Sam waited until the elevator reached the ground floor, then he turned back to the apartment. As he entered he could hear Fiona and Madeline talking. He swore under his breath as he heard Fiona tell the older woman her son was still suffering from the after effects of concussion. He paused outside the lounge, not wanting to go in there.

"Honestly Madeline he came here yesterday and we figured it out together. He's still getting headaches, and he's a little tense that's all." Fiona finally caved to Madeline's questions.

"So if he's still sick why is he working?" Madeline asked, she sat herself down not planning on moving until she had some answers.

Fiona gave a sigh and sat down next to her. "You know what Michael is like. He'd rather work than sit around." Fiona brightened, she spotted Sam lurking in the doorway. "Sam, did Michael say anything else?"

He came into the room. "No, Fi Michael didn't have anything else to say. But I've given him a tracker. So Maddy I think we should drop you back home and then we can back Mike up on whatever he's doing."

Madeline got to her feet. "Fine. I'll go but you'd better keep me up to date." She treated each of them to a threatening stare. "Or else."

...

The journey from Fiona's to the Miami Field office, didn't take that long. Michael was escorted inside and upto Agent Smith's office.

Smith didn't waste anytime. As soon as Michael walked into the room he handed him a folder marked Dawson R. "Take a seat and look at this, then tell me what you think? Honestly."

Michael did as he was asked, it didn't take long. "Is this it?" Smith nodded. "What about the stuff on Palisade in the other Folder?" Michael asked.

"Gone. The folder is still here, but those sheets that you brought out the other day are gone." Smith told him. "So what do you think?"

Michael sat back in his chair, not sure if Smith really wanted him to be honest. Smith seemed to be happy to wait him out. Eventually Michael realized he wasn't going anywhere until he gave an answer.

"I think it's a set up." Michael answered bluntly. He could read Smith's expression. He had given the answer Smith had expected.

The agent pulled a drawer open on his desk and produced Michael's handgun. Handing it over to Michael he moved round the desk and headed for the door. "Director Faye is expecting me to call you into the office tomorrow, and for you to go out to the house the night after. I think we should go and take a look now."

Michael, slipping the gun into his waistband at the small of his back got to his feet as well. "Ok, lead the way." He followed Smith out of the office.

..

Michael and Agent Smith were sat in Smith's car outside the home of Ross Dawson. They had driven round the property three times checking out the security. There was electric fencing all the way round, and security cameras set up at intervals. "Can you get inside?" Smith asked. He had been scanning the property the same way Michael had been.

Michael gave a quick nod of his head, he had spotted a blind spot on one of the cameras, overgrown bushes and tree branches covering a lens. Smith had spotted the same thing. "What about the fence?"

"You'll have to help me make a gap, we need some insulated bolt cutters and foam. Know where we can get some at this time of night?"

Smith shook his head. "In and out nobody any wiser. Remember the plan?" He was feeling twitchy, this was what he had been worried about. Westen was focussed on the job, but not the minor details.

"Ok, then I'll have to go over the top, jump from those trees." Michael pointed out the tree that was in need of a lopping back.

"It'll be a long drop." Smith commented.

"I've dropped further. If you want quiet, that's all I've got."

Smith gave a reluctant nod. " Ok, that's your way in but what about getting out?"

"I'll have to stay out of sight until morning and they open up. I'll get out then. Don't worry." Michael jogged away.

Five minutes later he caught a glimpse of Michael disappearing through a window. Everything remained quiet, Michael hadn't set off any alarms.

Smith felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was Director Fayes number. He answered the call, after taking a quick look up and down the street.

"Agent Smith here." He answered.

"Where are you?" Smith thought the director sounded drunk, his words were slurring.

He hesitated to his tell his boss what he was doing. To hell with it, whatever he did now was putting his career at risk. "I'm at the Dawson residence with Westen. I've sent him in to the scout the property."

"You've done what? I was calling to cancel the assignment. Get him out now!" Faye was furious.

"I can't sir. His phone is off, he is inside the targets home." He explained.

"Damn it. Well I hope you can deal with the consequences." The line went dead.

…...

Jack Faye was still in his study, a half empty bottle of scotch in front of him, his handgun on the desk beside his hand. He smashed the phone down onto the desk in anger. The call to his wife had meant he had left the call to Smith too late. This was a game now between Larry Sizemore and Michael Westen.

**A/N: Only two more chapters to go, I promise. Next one should be ready sometime tomorrow. **


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter Forty Eight,

.

_Technology, a boon to any spy. It makes the job so much easier. A simple little bug and a tracker placed into a cell phone definitely cuts down on the amount of leg work you have to do. Larry Sizemore loves technology._

Larry sat in a cafe along from the FBIs Miami field office. To anyone looking at him he appeared to be listening to music on his phone. Instead he was listening to the the bug that he had got his good friend and buddy Jack Faye to plant in Smith's office. Along with the equipment in Michael's phone he had the whole thing pretty well covered. So they were moving in early, both men suspicious of Faye's motives. Neither suspecting there was anybody pulling the Director's strings. He finished his second cortadito and got to his feet. It looked like Ross Dawson was going to have a lot of visitors tonight.

…...

Unable to stop the tremors that ran through his hands, Jack Faye placed his empty glass down on the desk. Picking up the hand gun, feeling it's comforting weight in the palm of his hand he checked it was loaded, and flicked off the safety. He wasn't sure he could sit by and watch Larry Sizemore ruin more lives. Knowing that he was in part responsible for all that was about happened.

He held the gun against his head, feeling the cold metal against his skin. The smell of gun oil making him feel faintly nauseous. Closing his eyes tight he thought about his wife Amy, and how she would cope alone. He thought about their dead daughter Meredith, whose rape and murder got them entangled with Larry Sizemore in the first place.

With a sniff he dropped the gun back on to the desk, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He had one last chance to stop it all. His hands were still shaking when he picked up his phone from where he had thrown it down. He had to hunt for the phone number to call. Then taking a deep steadying breath, he dialled and waited.

…...

Sam and Fiona watched Michael's jump from a tree over an electric fence into the garden of a large house. He rolled across the ground on landing, jumping to his feet he sprinted across lawn, and disappeared from view.

"He read the information I left for him, right?" Sam snapped. "I mean the bit about taking it easy and no more injuries."

Fiona nodded. "I'll follow him, you keep an eye on the Fed look out." She took a couple of steps before Sam stopped her. "Sam can you get over that fence?" She asked, pointedly looking him up and down.

He sighed and shook his head, she was right he couldn't get over that fence without either getting electrocuted, or injuring himself on landing. He let her go and watched as she nimbly scrambled up the tree and dropped soundlessly to the ground on the other side. Getting to her feet she flashed him a grin and ran off towards the house.

Sam stayed where he was, hidden by the dense foliage surrounding the property. He watched Fiona reach the house, and a few moments later crawl through the same window they had seen Michael disappear through minutes earlier. A glance at his watch told him she had done it under a minute. It struck him what a team Fiona and Michael would make if they decided to take up crime as a full time profession. With nothing more to see inside the perimeter, he turned his attention to watching the Fed.

The man had moved. Sam dropped further into the shadows, and instantly felt a gun in his back. "Sam Axe, I recognized you from your file. Are you spying on a covert government operation?" Smith's voice sounded in his ear. Sam thought he sounded more amused than angry, which was a good sign.

"I'm looking out for a friend. Which is more than his employers are doing for him at the moment." Sam answered him.

"Where's Fiona Glenanne?" When Sam didn't answer the gun pressed in a little harder. "So I'm guessing she's inside. Let's hope she doesn't mess everything up."

Sam took a breath, as the gun left his back and he slowly turned to face the other man. "So what do I call you?" He asked.

"Call me Smith, is the girlfriend armed?"

Sam couldn't help but smile at that comment. "She's always armed. Are you going to give me a clue what you've got Mikey doing in there?"

"Recon." Smith replied shortly. "That's all." The two men stood in silence neither completely trusting the other. Both keeping watch, hoping that no alarms started to sound, both ready to act if they did.

…...

Michael had skilfully circumvented the alarm system, and barely made any noise on entering the house. He hadn't completely followed Smith's orders, the window lock was broken. But it wasn't like he had been given any time to plan the break in.

Once inside, he took a moment to let his eyes adjust and then he began to check out the downstairs rooms searching for the location of the safe. During his first sweep of the property he didn't touch or move anything he was just getting his bearings making sure if necessary he could get out quick.

He passed a cabinet covered in photographs, barely giving them a glance. Dismissing the large wooden unit as too heavy to be easily moved. With all the ornaments and photographs displayed it would be too impractical to have a safe hidden behind it.

He moved on looking for more likely places, he was peering behind a picture frame when his brow creased, and he stopped what he was doing. He moved back to the photos, not quite sure what he was looking for. Then he saw it, a family shot. Two little kids maybe three and six years old, wrapped in the arms of an elderly man crouched down on the ground.

He had the photograph in his hand, his breathing becoming more rapid the longer he stared at it. He'd been thrown at first, seeing the old man dressed in casual clothing instead of the black suit, white shirt and black tie that he had worn at all their meetings. Ross Dawson was connected to Management, closely connected if the photo was anything to go by. He had to speak to Dawson. All thoughts of the job he was meant to be doing forgotten.

The man he wanted to talk to was asleep upstairs. Michael was in the hall making for the long sweeping staircase when a hand brushed against his arm and sent him immediately into attack mode.

Fiona found herself flat on the floor a hand wrapped round her throat, the grip tight enough to cut off her air. She struggled terrified by Michael's quick response and the lack of recognition on his face. She was beginning to black out before he suddenly stopped.

"Fi." He hissed, releasing her from his grip. He stared at her, as she gasped for air, a hand to her throat. He attempted to gather her in his arms but she pushed him back.

"I'm sorry, I. What are you doing here?" He managed to get the words out. Trying again tentatively to offer a comforting hand

"Michael. What are you doing?" She demanded, her voice barely above a whisper. Scooting back a bit, to give herself some more room.

"I've found Management." He announced, he had a beaming grin on his face "Look." He showed her the framed photograph. "They know him." He was almost laughing.

"Ssh." She put a hand over his mouth, thinking he was about to wake the whole house. Fear was gnawing at her heart, she had never seen him act this way. Every fibre in her body told her to get him out of the house as quickly as she could.

"Fi, I can find Management." He told her again.

"Michael don't you think this is all a bit too easy?" She tried to bring him back to reality.

"Who would have set this up?" He demanded, he got to his feet and held out a hand to help her up.

Fiona knew she was going to have to do something soon, before Michael completely lost control. Accepting his help to get up, she ran a hand down his cheek trying to get him to focus on her. "We should leave now." She said, looking straight into his eyes.

He pulled back, a defiant expression on his face. She realized there was no way he was just going to walk away. She changed her approach.

"Ok let me go and have a look upstairs instead. While you see if you can find whatever it is they have you in here looking for." She suggested, as a compromise.

"But." He wanted to argue. His eyes glued on the stairs.

"Go do your job." She soothed. "And I'll find out how many people are in the house." She gave him an encouraging push away from the stairs.

He paused, the pull to find out the identity of Management was strong. But maybe she was right, she could check out the situation upstairs while he looked for the safe. It might even provide more information he could use. If Dawson was related to Management it would give him damn good leverage against the old man. Smiling he resumed his search with renewed vigour.

Fiona watched him, not liking the expression on his face or the way he was acting. She didn't move until she was sure he was going to stay downstairs doing whatever job the FBI had sent him to do.

As she made her way up the staircase, in the back of her mind the thought was forming that she may end up having to protect this family from Michael. In his present state she wasn't sure if he would listen to reason or not. Maybe she should call Sam tell him he needed to contact the federal agent outside and get him to call whatever they were doing off.

Her thoughts were cut short by a strong arm wrapping around her shoulders pinning her arms to her sides and a knife point resting under her chin. "Give me a reason Fiona and I'll slit that pretty little throat of yours." She froze at the sound of Larry's voice.

"How did you get in here?" She asked. Staying completely still, waiting for a chance to turn the tables.

"A hole in the fence and some basic electronics training. How did you get in?" Came the sarcastic reply.

With the knife ready to cut her throat if she moved, Larry released his grip round her shoulder's long enough to take her gun and her phone. "Now I know how you like to interfere, but I think this time we should just allow Michael to do his job all by himself." He dragged her backwards towards one of the doors. "Let's just wait in here shall we." He pulled her into one of the bedrooms.

…...

Sam turned away from Smith to answer a call coming into his blue tooth, moving further away when he heard Jack Fayes voice.

"Sam? It's Jack." The man sounded broken his voice strained and cracked. "Do you know where Michael Westen is right now?"

"I might." Sam remained cagey. Jack must know where he had sent his own people. "Why are you asking?"

Sam could hear Jack taking some deep breaths and clearing his throat. Something was seriously wrong. "Jack, you ok buddy?"

"No I'm not, not really. Just listen." His voice sounded a bit stronger. "Do you remember when Meredith was murdered? Do you remember how Amy went off the deep end, and I wasn't there for her. I coped by burying myself in work. Do you remember how much work there was back then? I didn't know how ill she was until Larry Sizemore came to see me. He told me Amy had hired him to find and kill the man who murdered our daughter. He has kept all sorts of evidence, she didn't know any better he has tapes, photos, financial information. Sam, he owns me."

Sam thought he was going to throw up at this sudden confession. Meredith Faye, Jack's daughter killed over nine years ago in New York just days before 9/11. Sam had known how badly her death had effected Jack and his wife. But to hire Larry Sizemore to find and kill the man responsible.

"Jack why are you telling me this?"Sam growled, a cold sinking feeling in his chest.

"Westen is breaking into a house. Larry set it up, Westen is going to kill the man inside."

"Mikey won't kill without." Sam stopped himself at the moment he had no idea what Michael might do under pressure.

Jack heard the hesitation in Sam's voice. "Exactly, Larry knows everything. The man in that house is as good as dead if you don't stop him."

"Who is he?"

"The name wouldn't mean anything to you Sam. But if you want to keep your friend safe you need to stop him."

"Where's Larry now?"

"I don't know, Sam. You don't have long. I tried to stop it but I was too late."

"I'm going, but after this is over, me and you are going to have a long talk." He finished the call, realizing Larry had been moonlighting as a hitman long before his undeath.

Sam walked back to where Smith stood waiting for him. "Whose house is this?" He asked all business now.

"Why do you need to know?" Smith countered.

"Ok I'm not sure how much of this you're going to believe but your boss Faye has just asked me to stop my friend killing the man who lives there."

…...

Michael had found a wall safe, and after one look he knew he wasn't getting in there without the combination and a palm print. So that meant he was definitely going to need the family. He wondered what was keeping Fiona so long.

He was heading for the stairs when he heard noises coming from the rooms above. He had his gun out and moved forward, every nerve on full alert. In his head he was constantly reminding himself that Fiona was up there. He made it on to the landing unchallenged, hugging the wall. Listening intently, trying to work out which room the noises he had heard came from.

"Hey kid don't shoot!" The words as much as the man who spoke them brought Michael to a halt. "I'm coming out." Larry stepped into view, his hands empty and held palm out at shoulder height.

"What are you doing here Larry?" Michael hissed, his gun pointed at Larry's chest.

"Helping you out Michael. Who do you think led you here?" Larry lowered his hands, casually leaning against the wall.

"You're running the FBI now? When did you get that promotion?" Michael was making an effort to remain calm, he wanted to know what had happened to Fiona.

"Friends with influence Michael, friends with influence." He gestured with a nod towards the door opposite where he stood. "You'll find the man your looking for all wrapped up for you in there."

Michael took a step forward then paused, every fibre of his body wanted to get in there and get the information he needed. But something was holding him back, this was Larry and when it looked like you were getting what you wanted, that was normally when Larry stabbed you in the back.

"Where's Fiona?" Michael asked.

Larry smirked the kid had slipped, shown a weakness. "She's keeping your friend Dawson company. Come on I'll show you." He straightened up and took the single step that was necessary to reach the door. Michael stayed where he was, waiting to see what Larry's next move was going to be.

Larry opened the door and stepped inside leaving the door wide open, pushed back against the wall. So Michael could be sure nobody was waiting in ambush. "You can't check on your girlfriend from there Michael." He called from inside the room.

Cautiously Michael moved along the wall until he could see inside. There was the man he recognized as Ross Dawson on the bed along with a woman of a similar age, presumably his wife. Both were cable tied at the wrists and ankles their mouths covered in duct tape.

Fiona was stood in front of Larry, her head encased in his hands one under her chin gripping the side of her jaw the other over her head. He was in position to break her neck with a mere flexing of his muscles. She looked dazed, there was a small amount of blood trickling down the side of her cheek running from her hair line. There was duct tape over her mouth and her hands were tied in front of her.

Larry's eyes actually twinkled as Michael brought his gun up aimed at his head. "I'd be careful where you point that kid. You kill me, my death throes will probably break dear Fiona's neck."

…...

"We need to get in there, and stop whatever it is that Larry has set up." Sam had spent ten minutes explaining how bad things were likely to get if Larry was inside the house with Fiona and Michael.

"Neither one of us is getting over that fence." Smith stated. He had given up field work mostly because of his wife and newborn son. But partially because of a muscled damaged shoulder, making it harder for him to do the job. He studied the perimeter something came to him. "Sizemore is older than you right?"

Sam nodded. "So?"

"So I doubt he swung off a branch and dropped twenty feet to get in to the grounds. We just have to find his entry point."

It sounded like a plan to Sam. "Ok, then let's start looking."

They worked their way round, eventually finding a hole in the fence concealed by bushes. Carefully slipping through they headed straight for the window Michael had opened. Once inside the house, they both drew their guns and looked around.

Voices could be heard coming from upstairs. Creeping forward they started to climb, keeping close to the wall Sam glanced at Smith when he heard the man click off the safety off his gun.

"Let her go." They heard Michael's voice.

"Once we're done here, I just don't want her interfering. Confusing you." That was Larry.

Sam swore under his breath, Larry must have hold of Fiona. He risked a peek round the top of the stairs and saw Michael stood in the hall facing into a bedroom his gun extended ready to fire.

"I'm not confused. Let her go. I'm not asking again."

Sam and Smith were now just along from where Michael stood. He was so intent on watching Larry he didn't even notice them.

"These people are your enemy, it was his father that got you into this mess. I'm just making sure your little girlfriend here doesn't try and stop you from doing what's right. You know my saying kid, some people live and some people die, I just want you to make the right choice."

Sam could see the barely perceptible tightening of Michael's arm. "You're right about one thing Larry." Michael spoke his tone flat and emotionless. "Today I decide who lives or dies."

"MIKE NO!" Sam shouted but he was too late as Michael unloaded his gun into the room.


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter forty nine.

.

**The bedroom.**

**.  
**

Michael's pov,

He had asked nicely. "Let her go." He remembered saying the words, Was he not clear? Did the gun pointing straight at the Larry's head not make a big enough statement?

Obviously not. Larry had just smirked at him, speaking in that patronising tone he hated. "Once we're done here, I just don't want her interfering. Confusing you."

He hadn't realized he was confused. It all looked pretty clear to him. Larry's hands framing Fiona's face, ready to snap her neck. Michael was positive he wasn't confused about Larry's intentions. There was a thin line of blood trickling down her cheek from under her hair line. She was quiet in his hands, her eyes dazed unfocussed. No nothing confusing about that.

He had even given Larry a second chance. But his temper was rising, pressure building in need of a release. "I'm not confused, let her go. I'm not telling you again." His grip was becoming more tenuous, the only thing holding him back, Fiona's head in Larry's hands. If only his old mentor knew how hard he was having to fight to keep even a margin of control.

"These people are your enemy, it was his father that got you into this mess." Larry took his hand away from the top of Fiona's head to gesture at the two captives on the bed. Michael couldn't believe Larry would be so sloppy, did he really think he could threaten Fiona and then offer himself as a target?

"I'm just making sure your little girlfriend here doesn't try and stop you from doing what's right. You know my saying kid, some people live and some people die, I just want you to make the right choice."

Choice. When, in the last couple of months, no years had anything been his choice? He had been used, betrayed, lied to and then thrown out in the cold. Larry always said some people live and some people die well this time that was something he was going to decide. It was going to be his choice.

It was almost a physical thing when he felt his self control snap. The feeling of pressure which had been filling every part of his body with tension was suddenly released.

"You're right about one thing Larry." Michael spoke his tone flat and emotionless. "Today I decide who lives or dies." He smirked. As soon as he did, he knew he had made a mistake, as that first bullet left his gun Larry was already moving.

"MIKE NO!" Sam's shout had surprised him but it didn't stop his actions. He could stop even if he wanted to.

.

Larry's pov.

Larry had been so confident, that he knew Michael better than anybody else did. He knew how the kid hated failure, and despised traitors. He had seen first hand how Michael dealt with enemies or those that betrayed them. He had spent a week sat in a cell coming up with the perfect plan, to show Michael his true self. He just needed something to get so far under his skin that he would shed the bleeding heart, boy scout attitude he had developed over the last few years.

As soon as Larry saw that cruel twist of his lips. He knew he had underestimated exactly how far he had pushed the younger man. But he adapted quickly, spinning Fiona into Michael's firing line forcing the other to change his aim and miss with his first couple of shots.

Gun in hand, Larry's first thought was to kill the Dawsons on his way out through Michael. But Sam Axe's shout had warned him, that way was blocked. Michael's third shot hit him high on the arm, sending his gun flying from his hand. The fourth and fifth whistled passed his head and hit the window shattering the glass. It would be a long drop, but it was very clear Michael intended to kill him so holding his arm he headed for the opening, two more shots hit him in the back propelling him forward far faster than he could move naturally. The bullets embedded in his hidden bullet proof vest, then another shot connected this one catching him in the back of his leg as he half fell, half jumped through the window.

He landed hard, with the air knocked out of his body. He wasn't a young man, and he had been hit by two bullets and the effects of another two had probably broken a rib or two and covered his back in bruises. He didn't hang around, his highly tuned survival instincts forcing him onwards. He could collapse and nurse his wounds once he was safe.

**.**

**The aftermath.**

Even as he shouted, Sam knew he was too late to stop Michael opening fire. He had faith that regardless of his state of mind Michael would not hurt Fiona. But apart from Larry he had no idea who else was in the room.

"Westen cease fire!" Smith yelled a fraction after Sam's own shout. The agent was preparing to shoot when Sam slapped the gun down protecting his friend.

By the time Smith had realigned his gun the shooting was over. They watched as Michael seemed to sway, his arm dropping to his side. Even as Smith and Sam started forward, Michael had rushed in to the room.

They reached the door to find Michael sitting on the floor holding Fiona's limp body in his arms, his gun was beside him already forgotten. Holding Fiona tightly against his chest, he rocked back and forth. Placing gentle kisses on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry, Fi. Please I'm so sorry." He sounded heartbroken.

Sam dropped beside him. "Mike." He spoke softly, his heart in his throat praying that he was wrong. "Mikey, let me see her." He managed to get a couple of fingers to Fiona's throat. A rush of relief surged through his body, when he felt a strong steady pulse.

"Mike she's alive, let me have a look at her. Did she get hit." There was blood on her face and more splattered over her clothing. Michael looked at him, his expression confused as if he was having trouble understanding the words. "Come on, let me have a look." He prised Fiona out of his arms enough to check her over.

Sam gently removed the tape from her mouth and then investigated the bump on her head, he continued to look for injuries expecting to find gun shot wounds but found nothing. Wiping a hand over his face he turned to look at Michael. His friend looked broken, just waiting to be told he had killed her.

"Mike she's got a bad bump on her head that's all. There are no wounds, you didn't hit her." He watched Michael's face, the younger man nodded his head slowly.

"She's ok?" He asked, still not sure he was hearing correctly.

"Yeah brother she's gonna be fine. Just sit with her till she comes round. Ok?" He got to his feet slowly giving Michael a pat on his back. Sam suddenly felt very old.

He stretched his back and noticed Smith must have picked up Michael's gun, as it was no longer on the carpet near where he was sat. The agent had also done a sweep of the room and released the couple who had been tied up on the bed.

Sam went to look out of the window, trying to see if Larry's body was lying out front of the house. In the darkness he couldn't tell. The man had definitely been hit there was plenty of blood to bare witness to that. There was also plenty of holes bearing witness to how many shots Michael had fired.

He was suddenly shaken from his thoughts by Michael's voice. "I need to talk to him." The aggression in his voice surprising every one. Sam immediately moved to his friend's side, placing a restraining hand on Michael's shoulder.

"Easy there Mike. How's Fi doing?" He tried to distract his friend, while throwing Smith a puzzled look.

Michael glanced down, Fiona was regaining consciousness. For a moment all his attention was back on her but then he noticed Smith had started the couple moving towards the door again.

"Stop, he's related to Management, I need to speak with him." Michael ordered.

"Who is Management?" Ross Dawson asked, his eyes wide and his arms wrapped tightly around his wife. Fear and confusion etched on both their faces.

"Don't pretend you don't know!" Michael snapped, Sam tightened his grip on his friend's shoulder. Michael manoeuvred Fiona slightly, and pulled out the photo from a pocket, handing it to Sam. "That's him with their kids." He accused.

"We don't have any children!" Dawson replied.

Michael was becoming more frustrated, he batted Sam's hand away and got to his feet. Leaving Fiona sat on the floor. "Liar!" He snapped, stepping forward.

Sam reached for him again, but Michael shrugged him off. "Mike, steady there." But Michael wasn't listening.

Dawson pushed his wife behind him, trying to protect her from this obvious madman. "Have a look. We don't have children and what that other man said about my father. It's all lies my dad died three years ago." He tried to explain.

Smith had heard enough, he put himself between the two men. "Enough!" He snapped. He could hear police sirens getting closer, the gunfire would have been heard throughout the neighbourhood. This was going to be hard enough to explain, without having to deal with Westen's volatile behaviour.

"He's lying, let me.." Michael pushed Smith backwards.

Smith's reflexes were as quick as Michael's, he grabbed Michael's thumb pressing down on a pressure point. He held on as the other tried to break the hold, only once Michael had stopped struggling did Smith release him. "Enough." He ordered again his tone sharp, a warning.

Sam was surprised when Michael backed up, giving way to the other man.

"Sam can you get the two of them out of here before the police turn up?" Smith asked, he had noticed Fiona was looking more alert now.

"Sure but..." Sam wasn't sure about leaving.

"No buts, Axe. This is a big enough mess as it is, I can clean it up a lot better on my own. Get them out of here."

"I'm not leaving until..." Michael may have backed down but he hadn't given up.

"You're leaving. If you're here when the police turn up I'm going to have them arrest you." He pulled his gun from under his arm, making his point.

"Er Mike." It was Sam speaking, Fiona was on her feet now at his side. "Why don't you help Fi downstairs and we'll sort all this out later."

For a moment it looked like Michael might continue to argue. But one look from Fiona and he moved to slip an arm round her waist and started to help her out of the room and down to the ground floor.

Smith and Sam followed behind "I'll be in touch later." Smith told Sam and then looked pointedly at Michael. "Keep him under control."

He had the keys to the property, so after switching off the alarms and the electric fence Smith followed them out to the gates. The police cars were approaching now, Smith had the gates open and his badge and credentials in his hand. As the trio moved away, he waved his hand at the cars. "Special Agent Smith." He identified himself and directed the cars onto the drive.

….

Michael climbed into the back seat of Sam's car and made room for Fiona to lay back against his chest his arms wrapped around her, his head rested gently on top of hers. The journey back to Fi's was taken in silence.

Once back inside the apartment, Michael made Fiona sit while he checked her head wound. There was a bump and a small cut that was more bloody than dangerous. After cleaning away the dried blood he decided she didn't even need stitches.

As soon as Michael would let her, Fiona announced she was taking a couple of pain killers and going to bed. She got Michael to collect some bedding for Sam and then climbed into bed, snuggled down under her goose down duvet.

"Don't be too long." She told him.

After placing a soft kiss on her forehead Michael took Sam his bedding.

"She seems better." Sam commented, taking the pillows and blankets.

"I thought I'd killed her." Michael mumbled, a sudden feeling of fatigue came over him and he sat down heavily, his eyes sliding shut.

"But you didn't, so stop worrying about it." Sam replied, placing the pillows at one end of the couch.

"What about Larry is he dead?" Michael's eyes were still shut.

"I don't know Mike, his body wasn't outside." Sam admitted.

"I hit him." Michael's eyes opened. "I hit him a lot."

"I know, there was plenty of blood to prove it." Sam replied. "But that's Larry for you. It's not easy to kill the Lord of the undead. Maybe you should try silver bullets next time. Besides plenty of your shots missed in there brother. I think you could do with some time at the range."

"I am right about Dawson though." Michael changed the topic.

Sam let his head droop, once Michael got something like this in to his head it was almost impossible to get him to drop it.

"Let's talk about this after a sleep Mike. It's been a long day." Maybe after a nights rest, he could be reasoned with.

Sam was already kicking off his shoes, and dropping his gun on the floor below where he planned to lay his head.

"Ok. Tomorrow." Michael got slowly to his feet, rubbing his eyes as he walked towards the bedroom. "Night Sam."

Michael entered the bedroom as quietly as he could. Getting undressed, and slipping on pyjama bottoms he climbed in next to Fiona carefully, trying not to disturb her. He lay still, his eyes drifting shut as Fiona let out a soft sigh and shifted, until her head rested over his heart and an arm and leg was flung carelessly over his body. He fell asleep, with his hand stroking her back.

….

Michael woke up to find he was alone, he reached over and squinted at the clock. They had let him sleep in, it was a quarter to ten. With an annoyed grunt he sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed his hands through his hair. Slowly getting to his feet he headed for the en suite bathroom.

After a shower and dressing in new clothes he made his way over to the bedroom door, stopping when he heard voices in the other room. Not just Fiona and Sam's, but Agent Smith's as well. He paused, but he couldn't hear them clearly enough eavesdrop through the door.

Walking out into the lounge he found them sat outside, around the table. They all turned to stare at him, he was shocked by Sam's expression he looked sad and shocked. Fiona was resting a comforting hand on his arm.

"Hey guys." Michael spoke warily, wondering what was going on. Smith looked to have been up all night if his unshaven appearance was anything to go on.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Michael stared at the trio. What had they been talking about? Fiona broke the silence, getting to her feet she tapped Sam's arm hinting he should follow. "Hi." She smiled across at Michael. "I'll get you a drink and some breakfast. You two need to talk." As she walked passed she gave him a peck on his cheek.

He joined Smith out on the balcony, choosing to lean against the wall rather than sitting down. "So what did you say to them? Sam looked positively sick."

Smith looked worn out, he returned Michael's stare with red rimmed eyes. "Director Jack Faye committed suicide last night. He shot himself in the head." He could see he had shocked Michael. "He had left a note, admitting to assisting Larry Sizemores release from custody and manipulating case evidence on his behalf."

"Why?" Michael asked in a soft voice.

"Did you know he had a daughter?" Michael shook his head. "His daughter was murdered in New York a couple of days before 9/11, he got impatient about the investigation and somehow ended up getting Sizemore to find and kill the perpetrator." He could see Michael didn't need to hear any more. Faye had left himself open to blackmail and paid the price.

Smith took a deep breath, before continuing. "Anyway, because of this, they're reviewing everything Faye has done recently. Which means..."

Michael's head fell forward, guessing what was coming. "Are you here to arrest me?" He shot Smith a look.

"No, no but for now at least you're out. You keep your bank accounts, and as long as you stay where they can see you you're pretty much free to do what you like. They're even allowing you to travel outside of Miami as long as you let them know where you're going." Smith thought it sounded like a good deal.

"So I'm being watched?" Michael scowled.

"Face it Westen you'll always be watched. You know too much to be left alone."

They paused for a moment while Fiona came out and put a pot of coffee down on the table along with a couple of cups. She walked over to Michael and handed him a spoon and a yoghurt. Exchanging a chaste kiss she walked back into the apartment, leaving them to their talk.

"So what about you?" Michael asked, opening the yoghurt pot.

"They want me to take some leave. Which." He smiled. "Isn't that bad, my wife will be pleased and I'll get to spend more time with my kid."

Michael was tucking into his yoghurt, he spoke casually. "Talking about kids, you find anything out about this Dawson family?"

Smith sighed and then stretched. "Forget them. It was a set up by your friend Sizemore. Dawson was telling the truth, they have no kids and his father died three years ago."

"But there has to be something." He finished the yoghurt, and lent forward to put the empty pot on the table.

"No." Smith spoke firmly, getting to his feet he got ready to leave. "It was a set up. Leave them alone, they've been through a lot." He moved round the table and shook Michael's hand. "I don't think you'll listen but take a bit of advice. Rest up, forget about all that's happened and stay out of trouble. At least for a while. You have plenty of people who are on your side. But if you continue to act rashly they'll drop you."

Michael sat down and listened to Smith saying goodbye to Fiona and Sam. It was good advice, it fitted in with what the others wanted him to do. If he could just satisfy his own curiosity about Dawson maybe he would give it a go.

"Michael." Fiona called out to him. "Your mom wants us to call round this morning she says she has something for you."

…..

Sam didn't accompany Michael and Fiona to Madeline's, he wanted to spend some time alone, the news of Fayes death had affected more than he cared to admit. It was in his mind that he should really take some time out to find Larry and put him out of his misery for once and all. All that had happened recently just adding to all the other reasons he had to despise the man.

..

Madeline couldn't stop the smile appearing on her face when Michael told her he was unemployed yet again. He sat at her dining table resting his head in his hands, a miserable look on his face.

"I can't understand why you're sulking Michael. Look at what's happened, look at the state you're in. A rest will do you the world of good." She sat down facing him, unable to take the grin off her face. She had her son back, she turned her attention to Fiona for a moment. "You should both take a vacation. You've got money now haven't you?"

Michael nodded, still unable to see the bright side. Madeline snorted at his lack of communication.

"Well, if you are going to sulk, you can at least go and get me, that lamp from the garage. You know the one I mean. The one with the green shade, I can't reach it."

He gave her a long suffering look, before slowly getting up and going towards the garage. Why did she always have to find something for him to do. He had a vision of spending the rest of his life, repairing ancient household implements and being at the beck and call of his mother.

Madeline continued to grin at his back, she turned to Fiona. "Come on this should be good."

With her curiosity peeked, Fiona followed Madeline outside. She could see Michael stood in the doorway to the garage. Coming up alongside him, she saw all the furniture had been pushed to the sides. Making room for a newly refurbished Dodge Charger.

"Nate's friends repaired all the damage for me." Madeline announced sounding very pleased with herself. "I thought it would be a nice welcome home present for you."

**A/N: There all done, I hope you enjoyed. A BIG THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed and left comments. You've all been great I would not have got this story finished without all your suggestions and support. **


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